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PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


Purchased  by  the  Hamill  Missionary  Fund. 


Division 


D,.S.30Z 

.U37 


Section 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/withtommytompkin00unde_1 


With  Tommy  Tompkins  in  Korea 


I 

I 


SOUTH  STREET,  SEOUL 


With 

Tommy  Tompkins 
In  Korea 


By 

L.  H.  UNDERWOOD.  M.  D. 


New  York  Chicago  Toronto 

Fleming  H.  Revell  Company 

London  and  Edinburgh 


Copyright,  1905,  by 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenue 

Chicago:  80  Wabash  Avenue 

Toronto:  27  Richmond  Street,  W. 
London:  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh:  100  Princes  Street 


Preface 


Having  been  often  asked  to  describe  the 
home  and  every-day  life  of  Westerners  living  in 
the  far  East,  I have  tried  to  depict  faithfully  some 
of  the  real  experiences  of  a real  boy  and  his  fam- 
ily and  friends  living  in  Korea.  At  the  same 
time  I have  woven  in  much  of  the  home  life  of 
the  natives  and  descriptions  of  many  of  their 
customs  with  regard  to  birth,  death,  marriage, 
religion,  holidays,  etc.,  contrasting  them  with 
ours. 

The  family  of  whom  I have  written  were  per- 
haps more  favoured  than  many,  living  as  they 
did  in  the  interesting  capital  of  a most  interest- 
ing country,  and  their  trials  were  few,  and  such 
as  they  were  have  not  been  enlarged  upon. 
Hoping  this  book  may  serve  to  show  the  con- 
trast, between  the  family  of  a happy  little  western 
boy,  and  the  poor  children  bom  in  the  dark,  so 
that  the  hearts  of  the  readers  may  ask,  “ How 
can  this  be  changed?”  and  “What  can  I do 
about  it?”  it  is  given  to  the  public. 

Lillian  H.  Underwood. 

Seoul,  August,  igoj. 


5 


Contents 


I. 

The  Boy’s  Arrival 

II 

II. 

What  the  Boy  Found 

31 

III. 

PON  Gabe 

61 

IV. 

Korean  Nursery  Life 

76 

V. 

A Chapter  of  Presents  . 

105 

VI. 

Brown  Eyes  .... 

134 

VII. 

A Tour  

155 

VIII. 

At  the  River  .... 

175 

IX. 

The  Rainy  Season 

196 

X. 

Boy  Husbands  .... 

215 

XI. 

To  Japan  and  China  . 

236 

XII. 

XIII. 

Housekeeping  .... 
The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour 

270 

Society 298 


7 


List  of  Illustrations 


South  Street,  Seoul  . Facing  title  page 

Tommy  Tompkins  and  His 

Korean  Nurse  . . Facing  page  21 

How  Women  Carry  Babies 


IN  Korea  . 

• 

i( 

84 

Buddhist  Monks 

• c 

6C 

“ 114 

Buddhist  Pagoda 

“ 1 14 

Gutter  Shop,  Seoul 

* 

u 

“ 136 

South  Gate,  Seoul 

. 

ti 

“ 150 

The  Korean  Throne 

• 

66 

220 

A Korean  Lady  in 
Costume  . 

Full 

6C 

“ 292 

9 


I 


THE  BOY’S  ARRIVAL 

The  young  American  had  just  arrived  in  the 
old  country,  and  what  a contrast  there  was  in 
ages  ! He  so  very  young,  only  two  or  three 
hours  in  fact,  and  the  country — well  when  nations 
get  to  be  as  old  as  this,  age  is  a delicate  matter 
to  talk  about  as  feelings  might  be  hurt  if  guesses 
fell  too  far  short.  So  I will  be  a little  indefinite, 
as  it  is  always  as  well  to  be,  when  dealing  with 
ticklish  subjects,  and  simply  say  it  was  a hoary 
old  nation,  well  on  in  its  thousands. 

The  way  the  young  American  came  there  was 
this.  He  belonged  to  a race  of  people  called 
Anglo-Saxons,  who  can  never  be  well  contented 
at  home,  but  must  go  walking  up  and  down  on 
the  earth  and  to  and  fro  in  it.  His  ancestors  had 
left  England,  Holland  and  Scotland,  and  crossed 
the  Atlantic,  to  a new  country,  to  gain  religious 
and  civil  liberty,  two  hundred  years  before,  and 
his  father  and  mother,  with  a spark  of  the  same 
spirit  quickening  in  their  hearts,  had  crossed  a 
wider  ocean,  to  bring  that  religion  to  enslaved 
peoples.  So  Tommy  Tompkins  (for  that  is  what 
they  disrespectfully  called  him)  had  decided  to 
come  too.  Not  that  he  could  be  of  much  use. 


II 


12 


The  Boy’s  Arrival 

you  will  say ; but  not  so  fast  my  friend.  A baby 
carries  a charm,  an  open  sesame,  to  hearts  and 
homes,  and  a Holy  family,  whether  in  Egypt 
like  that  one  of  which  we  read  in  the  sweet  old 
story,  or  in  Korea  will  shed  an  effulgence  all 
around  it.  And  isn’t  any  family  holy,  just  to  the 
extent  that  Jesus  is  in  its  midst  and  rules  its 
thought  and  action  ? Of  course  it  isn’t  a family 
at  all,  without  a child.  Tompkins’  parents  at  any 
rate  thought  a child  was  necessary  to  make  a 
family  perfect,  and  they  had  adopted  one  before 
this  one  came  to  them  from  God.  Perhaps  it 
isn’t  fair  to  put  it  quite  that  way  though,  for  sure 
the  other  came  from  God  too.  When  you,  with- 
out knowing  what  is  coming,  stumble  on  a poor 
little  orphan  child,  and  you  have  plenty  of  home, 
food  and  love  to  spare,  it  is  not  fair  to  say  that 
God  didn’t  send  him,  is  it  ? 

Yet  God  sends  so  many  such  litde  creatures, 
to  so  many  people,  who,  one  would  think  would 
jump  at  the  chance  to  complete  their  circle  and 
make  themselves  into  a happy  family,  and  they 
just  won’t  see  it  in  that  way.  So  I don’t  feel 
sorry  for  them  a bit,  if  they  never  get  to  be  a 
family,  but  keep  on  growing  more  and  more  two 
separate,  selfish  entities,  trying  to  be  happy  with 
a half  life.  I want  to  branch  off  right  here,  and 
tell  about  that  first  child  that  God  sent,  and  then 
took,  before  Tompkins  came,  but  as  I’ve  com- 
menced about  him  now,  Pon  Gabe  (that’s  the 


A Difference  in  Time  13 

other)  must  wait  a little  and  come  in  by 
and  by. 

So  to  return  to  Tompkins,  I said  he  was  only 
two  or  three  hours  old,  but  ages  are  queer  things. 
He  was  born  at  two  o’clock  A.  M.,  on  the  6th  of 
September,  in  Korea,  Asia,  while  another  fellow 
arrived  at  the  home  of  his  mother’s  friend  in 
Chicago,  United  States,  at  three  o’clock  P.  M.  on 
the  5th  of  September.  Yet  our  hero  came  into 
existence  first.  The  sun  tries  to  compensate 
people  who  live  in  the  far  East  for  the  privileges 
they  are  deprived  of  by  banishment  from  the 
most  glorious  country  in  the  world,  and  throws 
in  a few  extra  hours  to  their  account.  They 
don’t  think  much  of  it  at  first,  but  hours  and 
minutes  are  commodities  whose  value  increases 
as  one  grows  older,  or  as  our  stock  of  them  de- 
creases. They  couldn’t  be  bought  for  millions, 
though  many  a king  would  have  given  millions 
or  even  kingdoms  for  just  one.  I said  he  was 
older,  well  to  be  exact,  he  really  was  not  older, 
don’t  you  see,  according  to  the  calendars,  for  if 
they  were  to  be  believed, — as  he  undoubtedly 
came  on  Saturday  morning  and  the  other  boy  on 
Friday  afternoon — Tompkins  was  eleven  hours 
younger,  and  yet  by  actual  fact,  he  arrived  upon 
this  twirling  old  globe  several  hours  before  the 
Chicago  boy.  Any  of  those  meridian  and 
time-table  people  will  bear  me  out  in  this  as- 
sertion. 


14  The  Boy’s  Arrival 

His  baggage  came  a whole  month  before  he 
did.  His  grandfather  and  grandmother  sent  it 
in  a very  large  important  looking  packing-box, 
most  of  the  space  in  which  was  filled  with  a baby 
carriage,  all  springs  and  cushions,  and  a great 
parasol  of  lace  and  silk,  and  such  an  inexpressibly 
delightful  teeter,  as  soon  as  it  was  put  together 
a baby  had  to  be  borrowed  to  try  how  Tompkins 
would  look  in  it.  He  looked — ^just  seraphic! 
There  was  a bright  halo  all  around  him,  as  he 
laughed,  and  clapped  his  hands  and  jumped  in 
that  springing  seat.  Such  a history  as  that  car- 
riage had  too.  For  thirteen  years  it  did  steady, 
faithful  service  for  nine  babies,  in  five  different 
families,  Tompkins  first,  and  he  passed  it  down. 
But  there  was  a smaller  box  inside  the  big  one 
with  baby’s  wardrobe.  Such  delicate  filmy  robes, 
such  tiny  dainty  little  caps,  all  lace  and  ruching 
and  ribbands.  Such  soft  downy  little  jackets, 
such  luxurious  little  wrappers  of  pink,  and  white, 
and  blue  wool,  and  white  silk.  Such  shawls  and 
blankets,  and  down  pillows,  with  embroidered 
slips,  and  a carriage  robe  and  an  elegant  cloak 
for  visiting,  I suppose.  But  cunningest  of  all 
were  the  little  woven  silk  undervests  no  bigger 
than  a minute,  that  looked  as  if  they  ought  to  be 
framed  and  hung  up  in  the  parlor.  Two  people 
felt  as  if  the  family  had  been  promoted,  now 
that  the  king  was  coming  and  his  things  really 
there. 


Korean  Mothers 


1? 


A glorious  Presence  seemed  brooding  over  the 
house.  A holy  awe  that  was  all  glowing  with 
joy  filled  their  hearts.  The  things  were  all  care- 
fully put  away  in  a chest  of  drawers,  and  nearly 
every  day  they  made  a little  pilgrimage,  hand  in 
hand,  reverently  opened  the  drawers,  unfolded 
and  softly  handled  each  little  article  with  loving 
fingers,  looked  at  each  other  with  shining  eyes, 
kissed  with  a long  sigh,  carefully  closed  the 
drawer  and  went  away.  They  were  very  foolish, 
weren’t  they,  so  much  so  I’m  almost  ashamed  to 
tell  about  them,  but  they  were  very  happy,  so  I 
don’t  think  they  minded  being  foolish  at  all. 

In  Korea  a mother  doesn’t  have  a name  of  her 
own,  she  isn’t  even  Mrs.  “So-and-So”  but  she’s 
“the  little  pigfs  mother”  (Toyagi  Amonni)  or 
“ Peach’s  mother  ” always  known  only  as  the 
mother  of  such  a one. 

You  see  these  ignorant  and  degraded  Koreans 
seem  to  think  the  greatest  honour  that  can  befall 
a woman  is  to  be  the  mother  of  somebody.  There 
is  no  doubt  they  are  very  uncivilized  and  need  a 
great  deal  of  enlightenment. 

But  as  our  young  American  had  come  to  live 
in  Korea  I shall  follow  Korean  custom  and  call 
his  mother  Tompkins’  Amonni,  or  mother  (which 
is  the  meaning  of  Amonni).  She  wouldn’t  mind 
it  I know,  in  fact  she  became  so  Koreanized  that 
I verily  believe  she’d  be  proud  of  it. 

But  I was  going  to  say,  that  Tompkins’  Amonni 


I, 


i6  The  Boy’s  Arrival 

was  so  hard  to  satisfy  that  she  wasn’t  contented 
with  all  those  charming  little  articles  that  came 
from  America,  but  she  wanted  to  make  some- 
thing for  his  kingship,  to  be,  herself,  and  sat  all 
day  over  entrancing  patterns,  cutting  out  the  cun- 
ningest  tiny  yokes  and  sleeves,  and  putting  in  the 
daintiest  stitches,  and  every  time  the  needle  went 
in,  it  carried  love,  until  the  frail  material  was 
quite  heavy  with  it,  and  while  she  was  working, 
the  most  delightful  little  shivers  came  and  went 
down  her  back,  and  sometimes  she  was  so  happy 
she  had  to  stop  and  dream  about  it  a little,  and 
once  or  twice  her  heart  was  so  full,  the  joy  welled 
up  and  brimmed  over,  and  went  sparkling  down 
her  cheeks.  Such  a simpleton  ! There  were  two 
baskets  in  the  outfit,  one  full  of  mysterous  things 
for  Tompkins’  toilet,  all  pink  silk  and  ribbands 
and  white  lace. 

That  stood  in  its  own  shrine  in  the  coziest  cor- 
ner of  the  room,  and  there  was  another  of  the 
kind  natives  call  “ chirungs,”  which  they  use  for 
carrying  fruit  and  vegetables.  The  missionaries 
however  used  them  for  infants’  cots,  and  that 
was  what  this  was  for.  A false  bottom  was  fast- 
ened in,  and  it  was  lined  with  soft  muslin  and 
trimmed  with  ruffles  and  valances  of  lawn,  some 
of  the  ridiculously  small  sheets,  blankets  and 
down  pillows  were  arranged  in  it,  and  then  “ the 
Captain”  (that  was  what  she  called  Tompkins’ 
papa)  would  have  it  on  his  side  of  the  bed. 


17 


The  Captain’s  Bearing 

The  Captain  it  must  be  confessed  was  a little 
inclined  to  be  overbearing  at  times,  and  really 
over  this  matter,  there  was  almost  a straining  of 
the  relations  between  the  powers.  But  he  had 
his  own  way.  I suppose  however  that  this  came 
about  because  they  were  in  Korea,  where  the 
people  are,  as  I remarked  before,  only  half  civi- 
lized, and  have  strange  customs  and  practices. 
They  actually  believe  a man  ought  to  be  the 
ruler  of  his  family — almost  as  antiquated  as  the 
Bible  you  know — and  that  if  he  cannot  have 
his  own  way  anywhere  else  he  ought  to  have 
it  there.  That  is  why  he  was  called  Captain. 
However,  after  Tompkins  came,  as  he  used  to  do 
most  of  the  floor  walking,  and  administering  of 
colic  remedies,  and  always  proved  more  than 
willing  to  shoulder  all  the  burdens  which  accom- 
panied this  great  privilege,  including  the  baby 
himself,  I think  he  deserved  some  concessions, 
don’t  you  ? 

There  was  an  attendant  too  in  waiting  for  His 
Royal  Highness.  A little,  thin  Korean  woman 
not  five  feet  high,  all  dressed  in  white,  with  tiny 
little  white  stockinged  feet  that  never  made  a bit 
of  noise  (you  know  Koreans  leave  their  shoes 
outside  the  door)  and  with  a pale,  meek  face  that 
wore  an  honest,  faithful  look.  Tompkins’  mother 
paid  her  two  dollars  and  a half  gold  a month, 
that  is  five  yen  and  that  meant  at  that  time  600 
of  those  queer,  little,  brass,  five  cash  pieces,  made 


l8  The  Boy’s  Arrival 

with  holes  in  the  centre.  They  are  all  strung 
together  and  very  heavy,  so  she  had  to  get  her 
husband  to  come  and  carry  it  home.  For  of 
course  she  lived  at  home,  if  such  a dark  little  hut 
could  be  called  that,  and  receiving  such  a mag- 
nificent stipend,  found  her  own  meals.  She  was 
now  a person  of  wealth  and  importance  and  sup- 
ported her  own  family. 

Well  as  I began  so  long  ago  to  say,  Tomp- 
kins had  just  come  an  hour  or  so  since,  every- 
thing was  quiet,  everybody  contented  but  the 
Captain.  He  knew  that  nothing  could  be  right, 
and  his  duty  not  done  to  the  waiting  continent 
on  the  other  side  of  that  old  hypocrite  misnamed 
the  Pacific,  until  they  were  informed  of  events  of 
importance  transpiring  in  Asia. 

So  he  with  a devotion  worthy  of  the  cause, 
sallied  forth  long  before  daylight,  routed  out  the 
poor,  sleepy,  telegraph  officials,  and  sent  quiver- 
ing through  the  Yellow  Sea,  over  the  trackless 
steppes  of  Siberia  across  Europe  and  afar  through 
the  tumultuous  heart  of  the  Atlantic,  the  old  sweet 
message  of  sacred  writ ; the  message  which  wher- 
ever it  comes  to  a family  or  nation  is  the  sweetest 
and  richest  in  promise. 

“ Unto  us  a child  is  bor7i^  7into  us  a son  is  given." 

The  Koreans  are  fond  of  babies,  and  no  one 
ever  hears  of  little  ones,  either  boys  or  girls  being 
killed  in  that  land.  They  are  often  called  Pig 


If  Tompkins  Were  a Korean  19 

or  Stick  or  Sorrow  and  other  equally  ugly  names, 
so  as  not  to  attract  the  attention  of  envious 
spirits  who  might  harm  them,  but  all  who  come, 
seem  to  be  more  than  welcome  and  are  as  a rule 
petted  and  spoiled  to  any  extent. 

If  Tompkins  had  been  a native  the  precise  mo- 
ment of  his  advent  would  have  been  ascertained 
with  the  greatest  care,  so  that  the  astrologers 
could  draw  his  horoscope  and  foretell  his  future. 

The  house  doors  and  compound  gates  would 
have  been  closed  and  none  but  members  of  the 
family  would  have  been  allowed  to  pass.  His 
mother  would  rise  on  the  third  day  and  leave  her 
room  on  the  seventh.  Great  rejoicings  would 
take  place  on  the  event  of  the  fourteenth  and 
twenty-first  birthdays,  and  when  he  was  100  days 
old  a feast  would  have  been  given,  with  a peculiar 
kind  of  bread  and  cakes  made  for  such  occasions, 
of  fine  rice  flour. 

But  alas ! Tompkins  was  only  an  American 
boy  a “ wayin  ” and  nothing  of  all  this  splendour 
of  stately  ceremony  came  to  pass. 

Had  he  been  a Korean  his  father  would  have 
looked  forward  to  the  time  when  in  his  place  he 
should  worship  at  the  ancestral  tablets,  keep  up 
the  family  traditions,  keep  green  his  father’s 
memory,  and  attend  to  his  needs  in  the  spirit 
world.  But  none  of  these  great  responsibilities 
were  hanging  over  Tommy  Tompkins,  nothing 
but  the  “ White  Man’s  Burden  ” of  which  much 


20 


The  Boy’s  Arrival 

has  been  said,  but  which  if  it  means  anything 
I think  must  be  something  like  that  which 
was  carried  by  the  Man  of  Sorrows  on  the  way 
to  Calvary  and  which  when  he  fainted  ’neath  its 
weight  he  shared  with  a black  brother  they  say. 
Not  the  same  burden.  Oh,  no,  that  was  never 
borne  but  once,  and  by  only  One,  but  of  that 
kind.  The  sorrows,  the  wrongs,  the  sins  of  hu- 
manity ! Ay,  baby,  that  burden  and  responsibil- 
ity was  waiting  at  your  cradle.  You  will  not  feel 
it  yet,  not  yet,  it  will  wait,  it  will  be  patient,  but 
some  day,  you  cannot  escape  it,  Tompkins,  it  will 
meet  you  in  some  dark  valley,  in  the  shadowy 
border  of  some  solitude  of  sorrow,  and  there  hav- 
ing entered  the  fellowship  of  suffering,  you  will 
bend  and  receive  it  and  go  forth  bravely  and 
bearing  it  gladly  if  you  are  to  be  the  kind  of  man 
we  believe  you  must  be. 

But  now,  the  little  American  having  only  just 
come,  couldn’t  know  what  was  waiting,  what  that 
awful  but  sublime  fellowship  could  be  which  he 
was  to  join  some  day  with  all  who  are  to  wear 
crowns,  bear  palms,  sing  the  new  song,  and  be 
priests  and  kings  with  a white  stone  inscribed 
with  a secret  name.  He  had  no  inkling  of  it,  but 
just  cuddled  down  in  his  little  nest  and  slept  and 
slept. 

Although  Tompkins  came  to  such  an  out  of 
the  way  place,  don’t  think  he  hadn’t  a trained 
nurse.  It’s  doubtful  whether  he  would  have  con- 


TOMMY  TOMPKINS  AND  HIS  KOREAN  NURSE 


Luxuries  of  the  West 


21 


descended  to  stay  if  he  had  not  had  one.  It 
would  be  too  much  to  expect  of  any  right-minded 
American  child  to  forego  what  is  the  privilege  of 
all  in  these  days.  One  of  these  ministering  an- 
gels was  there.  She  was  called  a missionary  but 
that  didn’t  spoil  her  a bit.  When  his  majesty 
was  made  comfortable  she  went  home,  but  she 
came  every  day  and  ducked  him  to  his  great  de- 
light, until  his  mamma  was  able  to  play  with  her 
new  doll  herself,  and  when  that  time  came,  no 
one,  no  not  the  Queen  of  England,  or  the  Czarina 
of  Russia,  though  they  had  begged  the  privilege 
on  bended  knees,  should  have  been  allowed  to 
give  Tompkins  his  morning  dip. 

When  his  elaborate  toilet  was  made,  and  he 
had  partaken  of  a slight  repast,  for  which  he  was 
by  that  time  clamouring  in  a way  that  struck  ter- 
ror to  the  hearts  of  his  minions,  he  w'as  placed  in 
his  carriage,  the  umbrella  dipped  to  just  the  right 
angle,  and  he  was  taken  to  the  garden  for  his 
airing.  Sometimes  on  these  occasions  the  Cap- 
tain was  present,  and  if  so,  his  overbearingness 
invariably  showed  itself  quite  unpleasantly,  in  in- 
sisting on  pushing  the  carriage.  I’m  willing  to 
leave  it  to  any  one  if  it  isn’t  eminently  proper 
that  a mother  should  push  her  own  baby’s  car- 
riage, and  whether  it  doesn’t  look  foolish  and 
womanish  and  weak-minded  for  a man  to  do  it, 
altogether  unmanly  in  fact?  And  yet  that  ab- 
surd Captain  was  so  selfish,  willful  and  determined 


22 


The  Boy’s  Arrival 

to  have  his  own  way,  he  would  do  it.  He  posi- 
tively seemed,  in  fact,  to  think  that  Tompkins 
belonged  as  much  to  him  as  to  Tompkins’ 
Amonni  (a  manifestly  ridiculous  hypothesis  as  all 
mothers  will  allow)  and  when  he  was  prancing 
along  (no  man  can  push  a carriage  like  a woman) 
with  the  baby  in  the  small  vehicle  in  front  of  him, 
and  the  mamma  at  his  side,  you  would  think 
(you  really  could  not  help  it)  that  he  was  actually 
proud  and  lifted  up  on  account  of  it.  Simpleton 
number  two  ! 

The  young  American  was  called  Tompkins  as 
I said,  but  that  was  just  for  fun,  because  he  had 
such  a solemn  little  countenance,  and  by  the  time 
he  was  two  months  old,  such  a demure  little  fash- 
ion of  tiydng  not  to  laugh.  But  he  was  also  in- 
vested with  a proper  American  name,  after  his 
papa  and  his  grandpapa,  which  name  was  writ- 
ten down  in  the  great  books  in  the  American 
Legation  in  Seoul.  He  had  a Korean  name  too, 
for  all  foreigners  must  have  a name  which  can  be 
represented  by  a Chinese  character,  in  which  na- 
tive names  are  written,  and  w'hich  can  be  pro- 
nounced and  read  by  natives,  as  foreign  ones 
cannot. 

This  country  being  on  the  underside  of  the 
earth  everybody  and  of  course  nearly  every  cus- 
tom is  upside  down,  so  in  writing  or  speaking, 
people’s  surnames  come  first  and  given  names 
last.  In  a letter  addressed  to 


Topsy  Turvey  23 

Mr.  John  Brown., 

No.  Thirty-second  St., 

New  York, 

U.  S.  A., 

they  would  write  it  thus  : 

The  United  States  of  America, 

New  York, 

Thirty-second  St., 

4<^^th  number, 

Brotvn  John  Mr. 

The  fact  that  the  letter  is  going  to  the  United 
States  is  the  first  thing  to  be  ascertained  by  the 
first  postmaster  who  handles  it,  New  York  the 
second  and  so  on  in  their  order,  so  that  were  it 
not  that  it  differs  so  radically  from  our  own  cus- 
tom, we  might  almost  think  it  a sensible  plan, 
but  these  eastern  nations  are  so  darkened  and  so 
ridiculous  in  all  their  practices  it  is  of  course  quite 
unworthy  of  our  consideration. 

But  I commenced  to  talk  about  Tompkins’ 
Korean  name  and  here  I’ve  been  wandering  all 
the  way  back  to  New  York  again  like  a homing 
pigeon. 

His  father’s  Korean  name  was  Mr.  Wun,  and 
General  Cho  Peungsa  a Korean  friend,  advised 
the  baby  should  be  called  Han  Kyungi  Han 
(nara  hancha)  which  means  that  the  character 
which  stands  for  that  kind  of  Han  signifies  Korea, 
and  that  taking  all  three  of  his  characters  into 
account  Wun  Han  Kyung,  it  signified  either 


24 


The  Boy’s  Arrival 

“ the  blessing  of  Korea  ” or  “ the  blessing  which 
came  to  his  parents  in  Korea.”  So  fervently 
hoping  both  might  be  true  of  him,  the  name  was 
solemnly  adopted. 

A Korean  boy  is  given  an  “ai  myeng”  or 
child  name,  like  Stick,  Pig,  Tip-top,  Trouble  or 
First-born,  by  which  he  continues  to  be  called 
until  his  hair  is  put  up,  and  all  the  important 
ceremonies,  marriage  generally  included,  con- 
nected with  his  celebration  of  manhood,  take 
place.  This  name  is  then  laid  aside,  except  by 
his  parents  perhaps,  and  his  new  common  name 
or  “ Chu,”  given  for  all  ordinary  occasions  and  his 
dignified  and  formal  name  or  Kwan  myeng,  only 
worn  as  “best  bib  and  tucker”  for  official,  busi- 
ness and  state  purposes,  is  also  at  that  time  be- 
stowed. This  latter  official  name  is  chosen  with 
great  care  in  accordance  with  certain  set  official 
rules,  in  the  case  of  boys  of  good  family ; and 
part  of  it,  is  almost  as  much  as  the  surname,  even 
before  he  is  born.  At  certain  periods  after  a cer- 
tain cycle  of  years,  heads  of  families  belonging 
to  the  same  tribe  or  clan,  descended  from  the 
same  ancestors,  meet  and  arrange  the  order  the 
official  names  shall  follow.  Each  generation  of 
this  clan  has  the  same  distinctive  name  repre- 
sented by  a Chinese  character.  Perhaps  referring 
to  one  of  the  five  elements  as  Koreans  distin- 
guish them;  that  is  metal,  wood,  water,  fire, 
earth.  Should  metal  be  the  one  chosen  the 


Family  Names  25 

Chinese  root  character  for  metal  must  be  part  of 
this  name.  One  generation  therefore  having 
taken  metal,  the  next  must  use  some  other,  say 
wood. 

In  the  family  whose  surname  is  Min,  the  char- 
acter distinguishing  one  generation  in  each 
household  is  Ho,  and  it  is  placed  last,  so  that 
we  have  an  entire  circle  of  cousins  called  Min 
Tai  Ho,  or  Min  Chu  Ho,  or  Min  Che  Ho,  etc. 
In  the  next  generation  the  character  representing 
Yang  might  be  chosen  and  this,  in  order  to  al- 
ternate, would  by  arrangement  be  placed  first,  so 
that  this  younger  circle  of  cousins  would  be 
known  as  Min  Yang  Chun,  Min  Yang  Whan, 
Min  Yang  Ik,  etc.  For  the  next  generation 
another  character  would  be  chosen  and  again  its 
location  in  the  name  settled  by  mutual  agree- 
ment. By  this  method,  any  one  at  all  acquainted 
with  the  family  would  know  at  once  on  hearing 
the  name,  to  which  branch  and  generation  he 
belongs.  These  names  are  to  be  inscribed  on 
family  tablet  stones  and  repeated  hundreds  of 
times  in  the  prayers  of  future  generations.  The 
Chu  or  common  name,  given  at  the  same  time 
must  also  be  made  up  with  a Chinese  character, 
which  corresponds  in  meaning,  or  fits  suitably 
with  the  official  cognomen. 

In  addition,  men  following  their  own  fancy  at 
times  take  some  special  name,  let  their  friends 
know  and  are  addressed  accordingly.  This  cus- 


26 


The  Boy’s  Arrival 

tom  throws  light  on  the  Lord’s  promise  to  His 
own  peculiar  friends,  to  reveal  to  them  His  new 
name,  showing  the  nearer  and  more  intimate  re- 
lation to  His  chosen  ones. 

The  Koreans  are  a much  named  people,  for 
still  further  nearly  every  man  has  a nickname 
by  which  he  is  known  by  all  acquaintances,  some- 
times with  reference  to  character,  looks,  deeds,  or 
some  town  or  county  where  he  has  lived  or  dis- 
tinguished himself.  It  is  quite  evident  they 
would  never  agree  with  Shakespeare  that  a name 
signifies  little,  and  if  he  were  to  ask  them  his 
hackneyed  old  question,  they  would  probably 
write  him  even  a longer  chapter  than  I have  on 
the  subject. 

Surnames  are  extremely  few  in  Korea,  not  one 
hundred  different  ones  among  ten  mil- 
lions of  people.  The  commonest  of 
these  are  Yi,  Min,  Yun,  Yon  Hong 
Kim  No,  Saw  Won  Paik,  Pil  and  a few 
others. 

But  to  return  to  Tompkins,  and  his 
Korean  name,  if  it  were  written  out  in 
Korean  letters  it  would  look  a little  like 
this.  I say  a little  like  this  because  the 
natives  write  so  precisely  and  neatly  with  their 
water  color  brushes  and  India  ink,  that  my  pen 
scratches  look  like  the  scrawl  of  a baby.  But 
if  it  were  written  in  Chinese  which  it  certainly 
would  be  on  his  cards,  or  whenever  formality 


The  Alphabet 


27 


J\j 


was  required,  it  would  be  like  this.  It  is  a great 
pity  that  it  is  human  nature,  to  go  forever  adopt- 
ing some  absurd,  ungainly,  incon- 
venient, inefficient  custom  of  for- 
eigners and  neglect  or  despise  its 
own,  simpler  and  far  more  useful. 

Josephine  perchance  prefers  a^ 
bankrupt  F rench  count  with  a long_~>  ^ 

string  of  titles  to  her  own,  sturdy,  / 
honest,  homespun,  farmer  lover, 
and  these  foolish  Koreans  who 
have  a wonderful  alphabet  of 
twenty-six  letters  which  has  not  its  * j ^ 
peer  in  the  East,  hardly  in  the'  | 
world,  an  alphabet  which  is  the  wonder  of  savants 
and  which  with  the  constitutional  monarchy  sets 
her  far  above  her  haughty  neighbours,  China  and 
Japan,  yet  despises  her  chief  glory,  considers  the 
Ernmun  as  it  is  called  unfit  for  scholars  and  gen- 
tlemen, relegates  it  to  the  common  and  vulgar  and 
writes  its  official  documents,  its  gentlemanly 
calling  cards,  and  its  scholarly  books  all  in  indefi- 
nite, difficult,  sight-ruining  Chinese. 

A Korean  gentleman  would  scorn  to  read  a 
book,  or  write  a letter  in  any  character  but  Chi- 
nese, but  since  missionaries  have  come  they  have 
printed  the  New  Testament  and  the  hymns  that 
the  people  love  in  the  Ernmun  and  are  trying  to 
teach  them  what  a jewel  they  have  hidden  away 
there  in  the  dust. 


28  The  Boy’s  Arrival 

And  now  our  little  man,  having  been  thor- 
oughly named  according  to  both  American  and 
Korean  ideas,  with  a childish  ai-myeng,  Tomp- 
kins, a formal  American  name  in  the  Legation 
books  and  later  in  Grove  Church,  N.  J.,  sessional 
records,  and  a formal  Chinese  three  character 
name,  began  his  career,  all  three  of  him.  Intel- 
lect, Affections  and  Will.  They  were  each  of 
him,  very  small  as  yet,  and  centred  chiefly  round 
his  bottle,  for  howled  he  never  so  loudly  intellect 
knew  in  an  instant  the  light  sound  of  the  step 
that  was  bringing  it,  and  when  it  came  the  taste 
and  look  of  it  without  a doubt.  A vigorous  will 
made  itself  heard  in  most  unmistakable  terms, 
when  said  bottle  was  desired,  and  the  loving  little 
grunt  with  which  it  was  clasped  and  caressed, 
plainly  indicated  where  the  affections  were  thus 
far  located. 

Which  reminds  me,  Korean  babies  never  have 
bottles,  or  never  did,  till  we  westerners  came  and 
taught  them  our  higher  civilization.  The  re- 
markable fact  is  that  Koreans  do  not  use  milk  at 
all.  Their  cattle  are  simply  beasts  of  burden, 
carrying  great  loads  to  market,  or  dragging  the 
unwieldly  ox-carts,  or  clumsy  plows.  No  milk, 
no  butter,  no  cheese,  buttermilk,  whipped  cream, 
charlottes,  ice  cream,  cream  gravies,  the  mind 
runs  over  an  endless  list  of  delicious  articles  of 
food  and  tries  with  dismay  to  think  how  a whole 
nation  can  exist  without  them.  It  seems  passing 


29 


Milking  a Korean  Cow 

strange  when  one  looks  at  the  poverty  of  the 
people,  that  this  nourishing  food  is  utterly  un- 
used, and  yet  it  may  be  that  there  is  wisdom  in 
it,  born  of  ancient  experience. 

When  one  reads  the  reports  of  the  New  York 
Health  Commissions,  and  that  during  one  sum- 
mer one  baby  out  of  every  four  which  was  fed 
on  the  ordinary  dairy  milk  died,  and  that  milk 
is  the  most  dangerous  medium  for  bacteria,  who 
would  have  the  temerity  to  urge  these  people, 
who  have  no  health  boards,  know  nothing  of 
sanitation,  and  have  no  means  or  laws  for  en- 
forcing it,  who  I say  would  be  bold  enough  to 
urge  them  to  use  milk  ? 

These  great  cattle  give  very  scanty  supplies  of 
it  at  best.  Seven  quarts  of  milk  a day  would  be 
exceptional,  and  such  an  undertaking,  to  extract 
it  from  the  indignant  and  insulted  animal ! 

The  cow’s  legs  must  be  tied,  her  calf  right  at 
hand  (indeed  he  must  start  the  performance),  and 
then  her  head  and  avenging  tail  must  be  held  by 
attendants,  with  another  of  course  for  her  off- 
spring. She  has  never  been  subjected  to  such  an 
indignity  before,  and  is  altogether  suspicious  of 
the  whole  performance. 

Korean  babies  who  are  so  unhappy  as  to  have 
mothers  who  cannot  feed  them — or  no,  I mean 
the  mothers  who  are  so  unhappy  as  not  to  be 
able  to  give  it  to  their  babies — hire  a yuwmo  or 
foster  mother,  or  else  the  poor  little  one  must 


I 


30  The  Boy’s  Arrival 

die.  I think  Tompkins’  mother  fairly  hated  that 
bottle,  she  was  so  bitterly  jealous  of  it,  but  he 
made  such  a terrible  “ yahdon,”  and  gave  no- 
body any  peace,  that  at  last,  well,  any  one  could 
have  seen  how  it  would  end. 


II 


WHAT  THE  BOY  FOUND 

Sometimes  in  the  sweet,  warm,  autumn  days 
when  Tompkins  went  out  for  his  airing,  luncheon 
or  tea  would  be  served  on  the  lawn,  under  the 
old  persimmon-tree,  for  his  father  and  mother 
both  loved  the  garden  and  now  his  mother  was 
not  quite  well,  but  kept  growing  weaker  and 
weaker  as  Tompkins  grew  stronger,  so  the 
Captain  hoped  the  sweet  fresh  air  would  make 
her  better.  It  is  my  opinion  that  she  was  pining 
with  jealousy  about  that  bottle  and  Tompkins’ 
affection  for  it.  However,  when  they  were  all 
out  there  together,  round  the  little  tea-table,  they 
looked  as  cozy  and  happy  as  they  ought,  and 
added  just  the  touch  the  garden  needed  to  make 
it  quite  lovely.  I think  the  garden  of  Eden 
itself,  would  have  been  a lonely  place  without 
happy  people  in  it,  and  perhaps,  who  knows,  if 
Eve  had  had  a baby  like  Tompkins,  she  would 
not  have  been  idle  and  discontented,  and  ready 
to  listen  to  the  serpent.  I’m  sure  that  garden 
must  have  lost  all  its  attraction  when  the  sorrow- 
ful couple  went  away  forever.  The  vines  un- 
pruned would  grow  all  in  a tangle  of  stems  and 
leaves,  the  wind  would  wail  down  the  lonely 

31 


32  What  the  Boy  Found 

alleys,  where  they  used  to  walk,  trees  would 
toss  their  arms  and  sigh,  their  fruit  uneaten, 
drop  decaying  to  the  ground,  and  the  flowers 
unseen,  w'ould  wither  on  their  stems.  I shouldn’t 
wonder  if  the  angels  themselves  deserted  it.  I’m 
sure  the  Wons’  garden,  with  them  in  it,  was  much 
pleasanter. 

The  house  and  garden  to  which  this  baby 
came,  were  very  old.  The  house,  at  least  part 
of  it,  was  built  over  three  hundred  years  ago. 
Its  walls,  like  those  of  all  native  houses,  were 
made  of  a sort  of  basket  work  of  twigs  with  mud 
plastered  on  very  thickly  on  both  sides.  Later 
it  was  cased  in  brick. 

In  order  to  keep  these  mud  walls  from  wash- 
ing down  when  it  rains  (and  it  does  rain  in 
Korea,  sometimes  ten  weeks  at  a time),  the  roof, 
which  was  peaked,  dropped  very  low  over  the 
walls,  with  extremely  wide  eaves,  like  a Korean 
gentleman’s  wide  brimmed  hat.  If  you  have 
seen  pictures  of  Japanese  temples,  you  know 
just  how  that  roof  was  shaped,  with  a coquettish 
little  upward  curl  at  the  corners,  quite  giddy  for 
a roof  you  know.  The  one  on  Tompkins’  roof 
was  covered  with  tiles  of  dark-gray  clay,  but  the 
cottages  of  the  poorer  classes  are  covered  with 
thatch,  which  answers  very  well,  only  it  needs 
often  to  be  replaced.  The  tiled  houses,  too,  leak 
often  in  the  rainy  season,  and  every  year  before 
the  rains  begin,  the  Captain  has  to  call  in  the 


Korean  Trade  Unions  33 

tile-men,  a guild  who  do  nothing  else,  to  look 
the  roof  over,  and  make  needed  repairs. 

They  are  very  arrogant,  will  not  touch  a bit  of 
mud  or  clay,  or  bring  any  of  their  own  utensils, 
and  even  if  your  house  is  leaking  like  a sieve, 
they  wall  not  take  the  least  pity  on  you,  unless 
their  own  coolies  are  there  to  help  them.  And 
if  you  think  their  price  is  too  high  or  their  work 
careless,  and  have  a difference  with  them  so  to 
speak,  so  that  one  set  of  men  leave  you  in  dis- 
pleasure, no  others  can  you  get,  though  you  wait 
till  your  parlour  is  a pond  or  your  bedroom  a 
morass. 

The  roofs  rest  on  very  heavy  beams  and 
rafters,  which  in  the  larger  houses  are  quite 
picturesque.  In  the  Captain’s  house  the  beams 
were  enormous,  black  with  age,  and  so  hard  it 
was  very  difficult  to  drive  a nail  into  them. 
This  residence  had  belonged  to  a wealthy  and 
noble  family,  who  for  some  reason  had  allowed  it 
to  fall  into  partial  decay,  and  wffien  the  mission- 
aries came,  they  found  they  could  buy  it  wdth  the 
dear  old  garden,  for  a small  sum  ; and  could  with 
very  little  more,  put  it  in  good  repair.  It  was 
merely  what  is  called  a bungalow,  a one-story 
house,  like  all  the  native  houses.  Here  again  we 
see  the  need  of  western  enlightenment. 

O poor  Koreans ! If  they  could  just  once  taste 
the  joy  of  living  in  a three-story  and  basement 
house,  with  a dining-room  under  ground,  the 


34  What  the  Boy  Found 

nursery  in  the  garret,  all  cozily  in  a “ block  ” of 
exactly  similar  dwellings,  with  a back  yard 
twenty-five  feet  by  twenty-five,  overlooked  by 
hundreds  of  neighbours ! Tompkins’  Amonni 
hadn’t  a single  flight  of  stairs  in  her  whole 
house,  and  she  had  become  so  demoralized  she 
positively  liked  it ! The  walls  were  not  more 
than  eight  or  nine  feet  high,  but  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  the  roof-tree  lay  at  least  eighteen  feet 
above  the  floor  and  looked  even  more.  There 
were  great  brick  fireplaces  in  some  of  the  rooms 
that  the  Captain  built  in  with  his  own  hands,  and 
when  the  dry  pine  was  crackling  and  blazing 
(you  see  the  poor  things  couldn’t  obtain  gas  logs 
out  there),  no  cozier  or  more  cheerful  picture 
could  be  found.  When  the  house  was  built,  the 
floors  were  nearly  all  what  the  Koreans  call 
Kangs  ; that  is  they  are  made  of  stone  and  earth 
with  large  flues  built  in,  so  that  with  a fire  lit 
from  the  outside,  and  a vent  at  the  other  side  of 
the  house,  the  hot  air,  not  one  breath  wasted, 
circulates  beneath  or  through  the  floor,  till  the 
stones  are  thoroughly  heated  and  the  whole 
room  soon  evenly  warmed.  These  floors  are 
covered  with  a thick  oiled  paper,  and  over  these 
a few’  mats  are  laid. 

When  you  are  not  having  a fire  ever\’  day,  how- 
ever, as  the  natives  usually  do,  even  in  spring  and 
summer,  the  floor  becomes  damp  and  unhealthy, 
and  one  by  one  the  Captain  had  them  all  removed 


35 


The  Captain’s  House 

This  wasn't  a very  imposing  or  sumptuous  place 
as  you  may  imagine,  but  just  cozy  and  homelike. 
O how  Tompkins’  Amonni  pitied  the  poor  kings 
and  queens  when  she  walked  through  some  of 
their  palaces  in  Europe.  Just  to  think  of  being 
forced  to  live  in  those  enormous  lofty  concert 
hall  sort  of  apartments  or  saloons  (one  would 
never  call  them  rooms)  full  of  stiff  unfriendly 
great  articles  of  furniture,  with  never  a cozy 
nook,  or  quiet  corner,  or  the  least  hint  of  any- 
thing remotely  like  a home. 

, But  thank  heaven,  the  Captain’s  house  wasn’t 
that  way.  The  floors  were  stained  brown  and 
partly  covered  with  rugs ; in  the  parlour  were  a 
couple  of  divans  and  big  armchairs,  that  the 
owner  made  with  his  own  hands,  using  his  bed 
springs  for  the  seats. 

I hardly  know  which  w^as  the  pleasantest  of  all 
the  big  low  rooms.  The  bedroom  was  all  baby 
blue  and  silver,  with  pale  blue  silk  curtains,  that 
came  from  her  Majesty  the  queen,  and  furniture 
that  Tompkins’  Amonni  had  brought  from 
America  from  her  own  old  home,  and  there  was 
a wide  low  window  that  looked  into  a conserv- 
atory full  of  flowers. 

The  conservatory  itself  was  the  pleasantest  of 
all  on  a winter  day,  when  Tompkins’  carriage  was 
always  wheeled  out  there  that  he  might  have  a 
sun  bath. 

There  were  people  who  belonged  to  the  Cap- 


36  What  the  Boy  Found 

tain  and  his  wife,  who  would  keep  flinging’  con- 
servatories, furniture,  knickknacks,  and  all  sorts 
of  unnecessary  but  delightful  things  across  the 
Pacific  at  them,  just  as  they  sent  Tompkins’  lug- 
gage. And  after  Tompkins  came!  O my!  the 
packing  boxes  of  toys,  new  clothes,  etc.,  that 
laboured  their  way  over  those  tens  of  thousands 
of  miles  I 

I believe  they  loved  the  garden  best  of  all.  It 
was  about  two  acres  in  extent  and  was  surrounded 
by  a mud  wall,  plastered  over  with  yellow  clay, 
and  covered  with  tiles  to  keep  off  the  rain.  In 
some  places  this  wall  was  covered  thickly  with 
Virginia  creeper.  Masses  of  this  beautiful  vine 
were  draped  all  over  it  and  the  quaint  gateway 
so  that  it  was  a charming  picture.  Then  there 
was  an  old  dead  pine-tree  just  in  front  of  the 
study,  whose  gnarled  and  twisted  trunks,  and  low 
spreading  branches  were  covered  with  white  wis- 
teria which  the  Captain  and  his  wife  had  brought 
from  Japan,  before  they  knew  that  wisteria  is 
quite  at  home  in  Korea. 

Indeed  they  brought  over  two  wisterias  and 
some  orchids  and  no  end  of  ferns.  They  were  like 
people  insane  with  delight  in  Nagasaki,  where 
flowers  and  ferns  fairly  riot,  and  prowled  round 
the  hills  with  a trowel  and  basket  digging  up 
just  common  old  things  by  the  roadside  with  ex- 
clamations of  ecstasy.  Then  they  went  to  the 
florists  and  nearly  bankrupted  themselves  in 


The  Garden 


37 


roses,  azalias,  Japanese  lilies,  chrysanthemums 
and  what  not.  The  wisteria  took  kindly,  no 
wonder,  to  their  garden,  and  soon  flung  its  beau- 
tiful foliage  all  over  that  poor  old  deformed  tree, 
till  not  a bare  black  bough  could  be  seen,  noth- 
ing but  a mass  of  the  loveliest  soft  floating  tender 
green : and  in  May,  oh ! then  was  its  epiphany. 
The  tree  was  one  mass  of  exquisite  white  blos- 
soms, from  its  highest  branch  to  the  ground 
where  they  lay  in  the  prodigal  profusion,  that 
only  God  and  His  nature  can  display.  Purple 
wisterias  had  been  planted  by  two  bedroom  win- 
dows near,  and  as  the  white  threw  its  arms  across 
lovingly  to  them,  and  they  reciprocally  reached 
out  to  it,  they  met,  and  mingled  with  a little  help 
from  sympathetic  human  hands,  forming  a charm- 
ing bower  by  the  study  door. 

Tompkins’  Amonni  had  that  for  one  of  her  pri- 
vate oratories,  and  there  she  used  to  drink  in  all 
that  exquisite  beauty  and  let  her  spirit  be  lifted 
up,  up  upon  it  to  the  God  whose  Spirit  brooded 
in  those  melting  tints,  delicate  perfume  and  grace- 
ful forms,  whose  thought  planned,  whose  finger 
formed  and  whose  love  sent  them  to  her.  They 
were  to  her  a letter  from  Father,  the  expression 
of  His  love,  beauty  and  wisdom,  and  so  here  in 
this  oratory,  decorated  as  no  monarch’s  on  earth 
ever  was,  she  worshipped  and  adored. 

In  April  and  May  Korea  is  glorious.  All  the 
environs  of  Seoul  are  sweet  with  the  exquisite 


38  What  the  Boy  Found 

fruit  blossoms,  peaches,  apricots,  plums,  cherries 
and  pears. 

Korean  fruit  itself,  is  not  very  nice  (now  I sup- 
pose I ought  to  stop  and  explain  again)  but  the 
blossoms  are  lovely  and  Tompkins’  garden  was 
full  of  native  peach,  apricot  and  persimmon-trees, 
as  well  as  American  fruit  trees,  Korean  fruit  is 
rather  hard  and  insipid,  with  fine  flavour  and  in- 
stead of  being  acid  is  at  times  very  acrid. 

Their  apples  (except  the  little  Siberian  crab) 
and  pears  are  all  w’oody,  and  fit  only  to  be  eaten 
after  having  been  cooked  with  a litde  vegetable 
acid  and  sugar.  They  have  however  a kind  of 
white  grape  which  is  very  nice,  a very  juicy  and 
pleasant  red  plum,  and  the  best  persimmons  in 
the  world.  In  addition  to  fruit  tree  blooms,  the 
country  fairly  revels  in  blossom  beauty  in  May 
and  June. 

The  hills  are  all  ablush  with  rhododendrons, 
and  a dear  little  eglantine  with  the  daintiest  per- 
fume riots  all  along  the  roads  and  fences.  There 
is  a virginal  white  honeysuckle  that  Tompkins’ 
Amonni  loved  best  of  all,  I believe,  because  one 
spring  evening  when  it  had  been  pouring  rain 
all  day,  and  she  had  been  shut  in,  just  a little 
lonely  and  homesick  (that  was  when  she  lived 
quite  by  herself  and  wasn’t  a family  at  all)  just 
about  nine  o’clock  a great  spray  of  this  lovely 
vine,  all  dripping  with  rain  was  handed  in  at  her 
door,  with  a note,  which  only  said,  “ Compll 


Korean  Blossoms 


39 


ments  of  the  rain  and  Namsan”  (South  Mt), 
It  seemed  as  though  the  wind  just  softly  pushed 
the  door  and  the  spirit  of  the  dear  rain  just 
wafted  it  in.  Because  rain  doesn’t  always  mean 
bitter  tears,  often  just  those  that  bring  the 
sweetest  flowers  to  their  best  freshness  and 
beauty. 

The  only  reason  she  didn’t  believe  the  rain 
alone  had  all  to  do  with  it,  was  because  the 
handwriting  was  the  Captain’s.  However  that 
didn’t  really  spoil  it. 

But  to  return  to  the  garden,  from  which  we 
seem  to  be  continually  straying.  It  was  lovely 
nearly  all  the  year  round.  First  of  all  in  the 
early  spring  were  masses  of  yellow  forsythia, 
then  violets,  and  some  of  the  first  fruit  blos- 
soms, then  flowering  almonds  and  white  lilacs, 
wisterias,  fluffy  greenish  white  snowballs,  and 
two  great  bushes  on  either  side  of  the  front  door 
of  yellow  roses  that  recalled  grandmother’s 
garden  in  dear  America.  In  June  came  the 
roses  in  the  greatest  hurry  to  be  seen,  and,  well, 
after  that  nobody  could  think  of  anything  else. 
There  was  a whole  hedge  of  damask  rose- 
bushes ; they  were  cut  every  day  by  hundreds, 
every  bowl,  jar  and  vase  in  the  house  crammed 
with  them,  they  were  sent  to  all  the  neighbours, 
yet  still  they  kept  blossoming  on  and  on  never 
tiring,  and  the  family  could  never  keep  up  with 
them.  And  talk  about  busy  bees ! You  never 


40  What  the  Boy  Found 

saw  such  busy  bees  as  there  were  in  the  Cap- 
tain’s garden.  They  were  so  overworked  they 
were  in  danger  of  neurasthenia  and  having  to 
be  sent  to  the  sanatorium,  worse  still ! Such  a 
humming  you  could  hardly  hear  yourself  think. 

But  the  damask  roses  were  not  the  only  ones, 
there  were  some  dark  red  ones,  and  some  climb- 
ing pink  ones,  and  some  that  grew  in  lovely 
little  clusters  of  pink,  white  and  deep  rose 
colour.  There  were  Marshal  Neils  and  tea  roses 
from  America  and  pretty  little  Koreans. 

There  was  a big  bush  of  eglantine  near  the 
gate,  two  or  three  glorious  La  Frances  that 
Tompkins’  Amonni  loved  best  and  a big  cab- 
bage rose  that  was  magnificent. 

These  people  loved  to  work  in  the  garden  and 
everything  the  Captain  looked  at  grew.  Be- 
sides fruit  trees,  they  had  all  sorts  of  small  fruits 
and  vegetables,  for  such  things  cannot  be  bought 
in  Korea.  The  native  vegetables  were  as  poor 
as  their  fruit,  perhaps  because  there  are  no  in- 
structed and  educated  farmers.  The  natives  live 
mainly  on  rice,  the  very  poor  use  millet,  and  far 
up  in  the  mountains  where  rice  will  not  grow, 
potatoes  are  cultivated.  Their  kimchi  or  sauer 
kraut  is  made  of  cabbages  which  are  much 
coarser  and  tougher  than  ours,  and  busy  indeed 
are  the  women  in  the  season  when  it  is  “ put 
down  ” for  the  w'hole  year. 

First  of  all  the  red  peppers  which  are  in- 


Native  Vegetables  41 

dispensable  are  picked,  and  the  roofs  are 
brilliant  with  patches  of  them  drying  in  the 
sun,  for  two  or  three  weeks  at  that  season. 
They  seem  to  have  gathered  all  the  fire  of  the 
fierce  July  sun  and  to  have  stored  it  up  against 
the  cold  time  coming,  as  who  should  say 
“ Don’t  fear  winter  winds,  frost  and  snow,  I will 
put  July  in  you  up  to  the  nineties.”  Then  too 
there  is  a great  washing  of  cabbages  and  tur- 
nips; every  little  stream  near  the  villages  is 
crowded  with  men  and  women  and  children, 
washing  hundreds  and  thousands  of  these 
vegetables.  The  rosy  country  women  carrying 
great  round  baskets  of  cabbages  on  their  heads, 
with  the  fresh  green  leaves  drooping  all  round 
their  faces,  look  charmingly  picturesque. 

After  the  ingredients  are  all  cut  up,  they  are 
packed  with  much  salt  in  great  earthen  jars, 
where  they  remain  out  of  doors  all  the  year. 

No  Korean  considers  a meal  complete  without 
kimchi  and  various  are  the  recipes  for  its  mak- 
ing, though  the  main  articles  are  everywhere 
the  same,  cabbage,  turnip  peppers  and  salt. 
Their  vegetables  are  limited  mainly  to  these 
already  mentioned,  with  a coarse  kind  of  lettuce, 
onions,  garlic,  black  beans,  a very  little  coarse 
corn,  and  in  some  sections  tomatoes,  celery  and 
a kind  of  wild  asparagus.  There  is  also  a 
variety  of  squash  which  is  not  unlike  our 
pumpkins,  and  which  Tompkins’  Amonni  found 


42  What  the  Boy  Found 

made  a fairly  good  basis  for  eggs,  milk,  spices, 
etc.,  resulting  in  proper  or  almost  proper  Ameri- 
can pumpkin  pies.  Comparatively  little  wheat 
and  barley  is  raised,  in  the  country  one  often 
gets  buckwheat  as  the  only  flour  obtainable. 
There  is  not  a flour  mill  in  Korea,  except  one 
run  by  a foreigner  in  Chemulpo. 

In  truth  there  are  no  proper  factories  of  any 
kind.  Silk  raising  and  weaving  is  done  in  small 
quantities  in  the  homes,  and  so  it  is  with  cotton 
cloth,  shoes,  hats,  and  other  wares.  Certain 
localities  are  noted  for  producing  particular 
things,  as  brass  which  is  largely  made  in  the 
north,  near  Anjou.  Their  paper  has  been  made 
from  wood  fibre  for  ages,  and  is  very  strong. 
They  possessed  the  art  of  making  fine  crockle 
ware  glaze  on  porcelain,  but  this  has  been  lost. 

Castor  oil  plants  from  which  each  family  (in 
the  country  villages)  presses  out  its  own  oil,  and 
cotton  and  tobacco  are  raised  in  large  crops. 

Tompkins’  Amonni  however  couldn’t  take  much 
interest  in  the  garden  that  year.  She  grew  weaker 
and  weaker,  nothing  could  she  eat,  and  became 
so  thin  and  wan  that  the  doctors  whose  medicines 
did  no  good  began  to  look  grave.  I think  she  was 
a little  concerned  about  it  too,  for  this  was  what 
was  written  in  her  diary : “ ‘ Lei  not  your  heart  be 
troubled^  ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  Me. 
In  My  Father' s house  are  many  mansions,  if  it 
were  not  so  I would  have  told  you.  I go  to 


Sickness  at  Home 


43 


prepare  a place  for  you.'  Our  Lord  said  ‘ let 
not  your  heart  be  troubled  about  My  death  or 
your  own,  do  not  imagine  this  dwelling  is  the 
only  one  your  Father  and  Mine  has.  This  earth 
is  only  one  of  these  rooms  in  His  house.’  When 
we  say  good-bye  here  we  do  not  go  out  into  a 
cold  and  dark  unknown,  we  go  to  one  of  these 
other  rooms  which  He  has  gone  to  prepare. 
What  peace  comes  with  the  thought ! And  how 
reasonable  and  natural  that  the  Almighty  should 
not  have  exhausted  His  powers  and  resources  in 
this  one  world.  Many  mansions.  Yes,  there  are 
other  places,  full  no  doubt  of  happy  glorious 
beings,  an  innumerable  company  of  atigels^  the 
church  of  the  first-born,  made  perfect  and  our 
own  home  folks,  dear  familiar  faces,  not  only 
strange  angels  and  lofty  cherubs  whom  one  has 
never  met.  A place.  Not  indefinite,  intangible 
‘ somewhere  in  desolate  mind  swept  space  ’ but 
a place  where  resurrected  bodies  shall  live  in 
endless  delight. 

“As  for  the  present  fate  of  the  poor  sick  body 
it  would  not  be  so  bad  to  go  back  to  dear  mother 
earth  and  become  part  of  the  flowers,  grasses, 

birds,  glistening  leaves,  sunsets,  rainbows 

And  that  seed  of  the  new  celestial  body,  God 
will  care  for,  and  I know  that  my  Lord  who  has 
made  this  life  so  sweet  has  far  better  in  store. 

“ He  who  gave  me  such  noble  human  love  here 
is  better  than  the  creatures  of  His  hand  and  since 


44  What  the  Boy  Found 

all  my  life  He  has  brought  me  through  the  dark 
valleys  I dreaded,  and  over  the  hard  places  so 
easily,  and  made  it  all  better  than  my  hopes,  not 
to  mention  my  fears.  He  surely  will  bring  me 
through  the  last  trial  of  all  triumphantly.  To  see 
Him  as  He  is  will  be  beyond  all  else  joy,  will 
check  all  tears,  and  carry  me  to  the  Seventh 
heaven.” 

But  though  Death  came  near  and  hovered 
close  for  a while,  the  mother  was  not  to  go  yet, 
but  they  all  had  to  take  a sea  trip  to  China ; the 
Captain,  Tompkins’  Amonni,  Tompkins  and 
Om. 

Om  was  the  cook,  but  as  he  was  a good- 
natured,  kindly  fellow,  they  took  him  along  to 
help  with  Tompkins  as  it  looked  as  if  it  would 
take  all  the  Captain’s  time  to  take  care  of  the 
mother.  Om  didn’t  begin  very  well  however, 
for  at  the  first  motion  of  the  steamer  he  promptly 
succumbed  and  was  neither  seen  nor  heard  from 
till  all  were  ready  to  land  in  Chefoo. 

But  I am  going  ahead  a great  deal  too  fast,  as 
usual,  so  I must  go  back  a little. 

When  all  were  ready  they  started  from  Seoul, 
mother  and  baby  in  a sedan  chair,  carried  by 
four  men,  two  in  front,  two  behind.  The  Captain 
was  now  on  horseback,  now  on  foot  because  most 
ponies  go  too  slowly  for  him,  who  didn’t  mind 
swingeing  over  forty  miles  a day.  The  trunks 
and  baby  carriage  jogged  along  on  men’s  backs 


A Fighting  Pony  45 

for  the  wonderful  Korean  “jim-kuns”  can  carry 
almost  any  weight  for  long  distances. 

The  Captain’s  horse  was  a terror,  his  one  idea 
being  to  fight  any  and  every  other  pony. 

While  waiting  at  a little  village  for  a sharp 
storm  of  rain  and  hail  to  pass,  his  fiendship 
broke  his  halter ; there  was  barely  time  to  get 
mother  and  child  out  of  harm’s  way  when  off 
he  tore  down  the  road  after  a party  of  mounted 
foreigners,  who  were  followed  by  their  Chinese 
cook,  on  a shabby  little  native  pony. 

To  their  shame  be  it  said,  that  glancing  be- 
hind and  seeing  the  snorting  fury  in  their  rear 
they  left  the  poor  cook  to  his  fate,  dug  spurs  in 
their  foreign  horses  and  fled  for  dear  life,  never 
even  drawing  rein,  when  at  a safe  distance, 
another  glance  showed  the  terror-stricken  little 
Chinaman  on  the  ground  and  the  fiend,  fiend- 
ishly kicking  the  skinny  pony,  both  of  them 
rending  the  air  with  unearthly  squeals.  This 
brief  inglorious  victory  led  to  the  capture  of  the 
assailant  however. 

Do  not  suppose  that  the  Captain  rejoiced  in 
the  possession  of  such  a creature  as  this.  It  was 
only  borrowed  for  the  occasion  and  promptly 
returned.  The  “ half-way  ” house  on  the  way  to 
the  port  was  just  a little  Japanese  bungalow  with 
three  or  four  rooms  and  a shed  for  horses.  Some 
great  and  mighty  foreign  official,  with  a numer- 
ous train,  had  engaged  it  for  the  night,  so  the 


46  What  the  Boy  Found 

Honourable  Tompkins  and  his  attendants  con- 
tented themselves  with  a little  shed-like  room 
which  had  been  built  on  as  an  addition. 

The  Captain  had  sent  a cot  bed  in  advance  for 
his  little  sick  wife,  Tompkins  reposed  in  his  own 
carriage,  which  no  one  would  dream  of  leaving 
behind,  and,  as  for  the  father,  it  never  mattered 
to  him  where  he  lay  if  not  too  far  from  the  others. 
But  the  most  surprising  thing  was  the  conduct 
of  Tompkins’  Amonni.  She  had  scarcely  swal- 
lowed a morsel  of  any  food  for  more  than  a week, 
and  yet  when  she  reached  this  place  after  a twelve 
mile  ride  in  the  pure  fresh  air,  and  saw  her  hus- 
band eating  ham  and  eggs,  ham  which  she  had 
neither  seen  nor  tasted  for  nearly  three  years,  she 
yearned,  she  ventured,  she  ate,  and  those  con- 
trary and  rebellious  internal  members,  which  had 
inhospitably  refused  to  harbour  a cracker  or  an 
ounce  of  any  harmless  food,  actually  submitted 
meekly,  and  with  a few  complaints  to  this  very 
objectionable  and  reprehensible  article  of  diet. 

And  now  the  Captain  was  indeed  light- 
hearted. Sure,  the  home  mother  would  be  well 
again ! So  that  night  the  tiny  little  room  was 
better  than  a palace  or  cathedral,  for  it  was  a 
home,  with  father,  mother  and  child,  all  bound 
together  by  the  purest  and  strongest  ties  on 
earth. 

It  was  a church,  for  it  was  a place  of  devout 
worship,  humble  gratitude  and  earnest  love  to 


Off  for  Chcfoo 


47 


God,  and  faith  in  Him ; and  it  was  a taber- 
nacle, for  He  was  there  whom  we  all  worship  and 
adore. 

Next  morning  they  set  forth  again,  and  in  a 
few  hours  were  embarked  in  a little  Japanese 
steamer  bound  for  China.  It  sounds  like  a trip 
round  the  world,  but  is,  from  Korea,  really  no 
further  than  from  New  York  to  Charleston. 
Tompkins’  carriage,  deprived  of  its  wheels,  made 
a convenient  and  steady  berth,  and  “ steady  ” was 
the  word,  for  it  did  not  apply  to  the  ship  in  any 
degree  whatever. 

From  the  time  she  left  port,  her  gyrations  and 
gymnastics  were  such  as  to  excite  the  wonder, 
but  not  the  admiration,  of  her  passengers,  or 
even  of  her  hardened  crew.  It  was  “ the  tail  end 
of  a typhoon'"  they  said,  and  the  Wons  opined, 
that  probably  typhoons  like  scorpions,  carry  their 
worst  stings  in  their  tails.  At  any  rate  they  were 
quite  sure  that  with  anything  worse  than  the 
lashings  of  that  tail,  the  little  craft  and  all  on 
board  could  never  have  seen  land  again.  A 
thirty-six  hour  trip  was  lengthened  to  seventy- 
two,  and  for  many  hours  the  vessel  hove  to, 
hardly  holding  her  own.  No  food  could  be  pre- 
pared or  fires  lit  in  the  galley,  but  this  was  a 
matter  of  the  least  concern  to  most  of  the  pas- 
sengers, who  were  all  in  bed,  or  the  officers  and 
crew,  who  were  all  too  busy.  But  there  was  one 
to  whom  it  was  of  vast  importance.  His  Majesty 


48  What  the  Boy  Found 

slept  placidly  through  all  the  tumult,  but  waked 
regularly  every  two  hours  and  demanded  his 
bottle,  got  it,  and  calmly  disposed  himself  to 
slumber  again. 

O for  the  calm  trust  of  the  little  child,  like 
that  of  the  Master  who  lay  asleep  in  the  hinder 
part  of  the  vessel  when  the  storm  raged  on 
Galilee. 

The  tumult  was  terrific,  the  awful  roar  of  wind 
and  wave  like  nothing  else,  and  which  only 
those  who  have  experienced  such  a sea,  can  ap- 
preciate. 

The  thundering  of  the  great  waves  which 
seemed  bent  on  the  • destruction  of  the  gallant 
little  ship,  the  rattling,  creaking  and  straining  of 
the  vessel  as  she  battled  for  her  life,  or  shivered 
after  a fearful  blow,  the  rushing,  trampling  feet  of 
the  crew,  and  the  hoarse  shouts  of  command, 
mingled  with  the  bellowing,  growling,  shrieking, 
moaning  of  the  wind,  made  up  a combination  of 
fiendish  noises,  which  all  the  furies  at  their  worst 
could  never  have  rivalled. 

All  this  is  not  a desirable  thing  to  experience 
and  the  helpless  landsman  is  inclined  to  feel  that 
he  is  swinging  by  only  too  frail  a thread  over 
the  fathomless  abyss  which  is  reaching  up  with 
foaming  maw  to  receive  him — even  as  though 
he  were  a mouse  dangled  over  the  open  mouth 
of  a hungry  tiger. 

Though  the  mother  began  to  mend  after  the 


Chosen  or  Tai  Han 


49 


ham  and  eggs,  and  still  more  after  the  sea  trip, 
she  was  so  weak  that  she  must  be  carried  up  and 
down-stairs  for  many  days,  and  could  scarcely 
walk  even  a few  steps,  but  the  Captain  was 
trained  nurse,  doctor,  lady’s  maid,  caterer  and 
amusement  committee  for  the  party,  and  when 
his  manifold  duties  were  all  done,  he  read 
Dickens  to  the  family,  Tompkins  rippled  out  as 
uncontrollable  and  contagious  ha  ha’s,  when  the 
jokes  came  in,  as  the  rest.  His  mother  unblush- 
ingly  asserted  it  was  because  he  heard  them 
laugh,  and  supposed  that  was  in  order,  but  the 
Captain  stoutly  held  it  was  an  evidence  of  the 
superior  intelligence  of  the  baby,  who  began  by 
saying  “ Dad  ” the  day  he  was  born,  and  con- 
tinued very  properly,  by  appreciating  Dickens  at 
two  months  of  age. 

They  spent  the  bright  November  days  on  the 
sands  at  Chefoo,  watching  the  glorious  surf  and 
drinking  in  the  bracing  salt  air  and  in  a little 
while  the  fear  had  quite  passed  for  that  time, 
and  back  again  they  all  sailed  for  their  own  little 
“ Chosen  ” land.  They  always  thought  it  a most 
suitable  name  for  that  country,  which  though  it 
only  meant  “ Morning  Calm  ” to  Koreans,  meant 
English  “ Chosen,”  to  them.  The  place  God  had 
chosen  to  send  them,  as  He  sent  Abraham,  and 
the  place  He  had  chosen  for  them,  the  land  He 
had  chosen  to  bless,  the  chosen  or  choicest  of  all 
eastern  lands,  and  mission  fields,  the  people  He 


50  What  the  Boy  Found 

had  chosen  as  His  own  forever,  and  so  on  indefi- 
nitely, delightfully,  with  a blessing  in  every  facet 
of  the  name  that  spelled  Korea.  They  were  sorry 
enough  when  ten  or  fifteen  years  later  the  rulers 
grew  vainglorious  and  called  the  dear  little 
country  “Tai  Han”  (meaning  Great  Nation) 
suiting  it  about  as  well  as  the  Captain’s  garments 
would  have  fitted  Tompkins,  and  the  cruel  irony 
of  which  in  view  of  its  utter  helplessness  could 
only  at  best  provoke  a sigh  of  regret. 

Now  I suppose  you  will  at  once  ask  its  size 
and  population,  so  I must  wander  off  again,  into 
eternally  recurring  explanations.  It  has  an  area 
equal  to  the  combined  areas  of  New  York,  Penn- 
sylvania and  New  Jersey,  and  a population  of 
from  ten  to  fourteen  millions. 

In  taking  census,  the  government  only  reck- 
ons houses  and  reckons  five  people  (children  and 
adults)  to  a house,  which  is  not  an  overestimate. 
For  many  years  China  claimed  suzerainty  over 
them  and  received  a small  tribute  each  year,  but 
since  the  Japan-China  War,  up  to  the  present  writ- 
ing, Korea  has  been  nominally  independent, 
though  alternately  under  the  actual  protectorate 
of  either  Russia  or  Japan,  and  now  lies  a helpless 
bone  of  contention  between  the  two,  who  like  a 
couple  of  hungry  dogs  lie  watching  it,  snarling  at 
each  other,  each  ready  to  spring  and  devour  it. 
Poor  little  “ Great  Han  ” can  do  nothing  but  hope 
that  some  other  great  Power  will  come  to  the 


Tompkins’  Descent  51 

rescue,  while  foreigners  of  other  nationalities  who 
come  to  prey  upon  her,  openly  aver  she  is  “ only 
a sponge  to  be  squeezed  and  thrown  away.” 
Such  are  the  breed  of  cormorants  made  up  of  only 
pockets  and  stomachs,  who  flock  to  the  East  to  en- 
rich themselves,  at  no  matter  what  cost  to  the  poor 
natives.  But  before  these  lines  are  read  Korea’s 
fate  will  probably  have  been  decided,  so  I will 
write  no  more  on  the  subject,  but  return  to 
Tompkins  who  was  becoming  more  and  more 
bewitching  every  day,  and  was  the  dearest  little 
dimpled,  dumpling  darling  of  a baby,  with  a cun- 
ning little  double  chin,  and  the  jolliest  little  laugh 
you  ever  heard. 

It  is  perhaps  a question  to  what  the  credit  for 
all  these  attractions  is  due,  for  his  father,  though 
an  American  citizen,  was  English  by  birth,  his 
mamma  was  an  American,  some  of  whose  ances- 
tors’ names  were  written  in  Dutch  in  the  quaint 
old  records  of  the  oldest  Dutch  Reformed  Church 
in  New  York,  and  some  in  the  passenger  list  of 
the  Mayflower.  But  Tompkins  was  born  in 
Korea  and  when  he  was  older  and  went  to 
America  the  second  time  the  boys  called  him 
“ Chinky  Chinky  Chinaman  ” and  said  he  could 
never  be  President,  which  was  galling. 

But  we  will  hope  that  some  of  the  good  steady 
going  qualities  and  dogged  persistence  of  old 
John  Bull,  and  the  life,  energy,  brilliance  and  in- 
dependence of  the  New  World,  and  the  patience 


^2  What  the  Boy  Found 

and  calm  of  the  East,  may  all  have  been  be- 
stowed upon  him  by  these  great  fairy  godmothers. 

But  as  I was  about  to  say  Christmas  time  was 
approaching,  and  it  was  decided  in  family  con- 
clave, at  which  he  of  course  assisted,  that  he 
must  have  a Christmas  tree  though  he  was  only 
four  months  old,  and  that  all  the  babies  and  little 
folks  belonging  to  Americans  and  Europeans,  in 
the  town,  should  be  invited.  But  it  is  no  easy 
matter  here,  in  Korea,  to  get  trees. 

The  poor  around  the  city,  where  trees  are  quite 
scarce,  cut  them  down  so  fast  for  fuel  that  the 
cutting  of  trees  has  been  forbidden  by  law,  and, 
unless  one  can  be  had  from  some  one’s  own  land, 
we  must  do  without.  Four  days  before  Christ- 
mas and  yet  no  tree ; then  three  days ; at  last  on 
the  second  day  it  arrived.  I’m  afraid  some  of 
our  American  boys  would  have  called  it  a “two 
for  a cent”  one,  but  it  was  large  enough  for  the 
low  rooms,  and  with  it  came  large  bunches  of  the 
beautiful  mystic  mistletoe  so  prized  by  our  Eng- 
lish cousins,  and  long  branches  of  evergreens. 
Tompkins’  tree  had  been  gaining  in  interest  and 
importance  for  several  days  before  its  arrival,  and 
no  less  than  three  other  engagements  had  been 
made  for  it,  to  serve  expectant  little  hearts. 

A tree  which  bears  such  variety  of  fruits  as  a 
Christmas  tree,  is  usually  not  expected  to  yield  a 
full  harvest  on  three  or  four  successive  days,  yet 
this  is  what  the  extraordinarily  good  little  tree 


53 


A Christmas  Party 

did.  First,  on  Christmas  Eve,  a band  of  funny, 
cunning  little  Korean  schoolgirls  joined  with 
their  teachers,  and  circled  round  it,  looking  with 
wondering  eyes  at  the  bright  lights  and  glitter- 
ing trimmings.  Then  they  sat  down  on  the 
floor,  Korean  fashion,  and  received  their  gifts, 
had  their  little  feast  of  Christmas  dainties,  and 
were  sent  home  greatly  perplexed  how  to  carry 
away  all  the  goodies  that  had  been  given  to 
them.  The  next  day  Tompkins’  tree  had  his 
toilet  carefully  remade,  new  presents  were 
fastened  to  his  prickly  old  arms,  new  candles 
lighted  to  brighten  his  dark  dress,  and  a lot  of 
mischievous,  bright,  rollicking,  long-haired,  gaily 
attired  little  Korean  boys  came  eagerly  peering 
among  its  branches.  They,  too,  received  gifts, 
were  feasted  with  goodies,  and  entertained  with 
stories  and  pictures  and  sent  away  rejoicing. 
While  the  tree  had  been  entertaining  all  these 
little  Koreans  at  the  house  of  one  of  our  friends, 
Tompkins,  through  his  private  secretary,  that  is, 
mamma,  you  know,  had  been  sending  notes 
something  like  this : 

“ Master  Henry  Augustus  Won  presents  his 
compliments  to  Master  John  Brown  and  begs 
that  he  may  have  the  pleasure  of  his  company 
on  Friday,  December  26,  1890,  at  four  o’clock. 

“ Small  and  Early. 

“ Chaperons  cordially  welcome.” 

These  little  notes  were  given  in  charge  of  a 


5:4  What  the  Boy  Found 

Korean  servant  with  what  is  called  a “ chit- 
book,”  which  is  simply  a blank  book,  with  the 
names  of  those  persons  who  are  to  receive  letters 
or  packages  written  opposite  a space  in  which 
they  sign  their  own  names  in  token  of  having 
received  such  a letter.  In  reply  came  any  num- 
ber of  gay  little  acceptances. 

The  cook  put  on  his  big  apron  and  went 
diligently  to  work  making  tarts,  kisses,  cookies, 
pattie  cakes,  sandwiches,  lemonade,  etc. 

The  family  made  the  candy,  which  was  great 
fun,  especially  as  Tompkins  presided.  Beyond  a 
doubt,  Christmas  joys  seemed  to  be  doubled  and 
sweetened  in  this  performance.  Bottled  lemon 
drops  and  nauseous  Japanese  candies  were  the 
only  things  then  to  be  had  for  money  in  that  be- 
nighted land,  where,  think  of  it ! the  people  have 
no  sugar ! Fancy  what  that  means  ! No  jams, 
jellies,  cakes,  pies,  tarts  or  puddings;  of  course 
no  ice  cream  or  cream  sodas.  No  sugar  on 
their  morning  rice  and  no  proper  candy.  They 
do  have  one  kind,  however ; a sort  of  substitute 
for  molasses  candy,  pulled  quite  white  and  often 
full  of  little  nuts,  which  is  quite  palatable. 

The  rich  people  buy  Chinese  preserves  and 
candied  fruits,  and  they  have  delicious  buck- 
wheat honey,  so  that  they  are  not  entirely  with- 
out sweets.  Foreigners  however  do  not  pat- 
ronize the  native  candy  sellers  very  much,  for 
when  we  look  at  the  dirty  fingers  that  make  it, 


Trimming  the  Tree  55 

and  the  dirty  places  where  it  is  manufactured  we 
lose  our  appetite,  and  ask  to  be  excused. 

So  the  Wons  set  their  wits  and  fingers  to 
work  and  made  some  fancy  candies.  Chocolate 
creams,  caramels,  pink  sugar  creams,  cocoanuts, 
sugared  walnuts,  candied  oranges  and  figs,  so 
that  there  was  quite  a nice  variety  which  looked 
like  Huyler’s  best.  The  tree  was  put  in  the 
study  and  made  gorgeous  with  silver  bells, 
paper  angels,  tin  rubies  and  emeralds,  cobwebs 
of  gold  and  silver  tinsel,  red  bags  of  candy,  and 
lots  of  candles,  all  of  which,  with  the  presents, 
had  crossed  seas  from  America,  England  and 
China  to  adorn  the  occasion.  The  presents 
were  then  placed  on,  in,  under  or  near  the 
tree. 

You  see  there  was  a movable  partition  be- 
tween the  study  and  parlour,  such  as  all  native 
houses  have,  made  of  a light  framework  of  wood 
covered  with  paper,  a sliding  door  arrangement 
which  can  be  entirely  and  easily  removed. 

Then  this  was  all  closed  so  no  one  would 
know  there  was  a tree  in  the  house. 

Even  when  the  Captain  was  a bachelor  he  al- 
ways had  a Christmas  party  for  the  children,  and 
when  Pon  Gabe  came  of  course  there  must  be  a 
party  for  him,  and  that  reminds  me — but,  well, 
never  mind  now,  we  mustn’t  wander  away  from 
the  tree. 

A great  blazing  fire  was  lighted  in  the  big 


56  What  the  Boy  Found 

brick  fireplace  in  the  parlour,  for  what  would 
Christmas  be  without  that,  to  dance,  laugh,  sing, 
clap  hands  and  bid  all  welcome?  The  room 
was  all  decorated  with  Christmas  greens  and 
mistletoe,  and  everything  looked  quite  like  a 
real  Christian  Christmas,  as  indeed  it  was 
though  in  a poor  dark  heathen  land  where  no 
joyous  light  sends  its  starry  rays  through  the 
night  of  ignorance,  sin  and  sorrow,  to  brighten 
the  lives  of  young  or  old.  Almost  before  they 
could  finish  decorating  the  rooms,  gay  little 
voices  were  heard  and  the  children  came  troop- 
ing along.  Tompkins  was  dressed  in  his  best 
and  lay  back  in  his  little  carriage  smiling  be- 
nignly on  every  one.  Such  a queer  little  com- 
pany. Little  Americans  from  the  missionary 
homes,  little  English  from  the  consulate,  little 
Russians,  little  chubby  Japanese  from  the  lega- 
tion, little  German  Americans,  Canadians,  one 
Korean  and  the  very  cunningest  little  Chinese 
baby  you  ever  did  see,  all  wadded  up  in  such  an 
amazing  number  of  gay  quilted  coats  he  could 
roll  one  way  as  well  as  another,  and  could  roll 
all  day  without  hurting  himself,  and  oh  ! such  a 
splendid  red  cap  all  decorated  with  gold  beads, 
enough  to  delight  the  heart  of  the  most  exacting 
baby  in  the  world.  You  may  be  sure  Tompkins 
was  glad  to  see  that  Chinese  baby. 

Well,  they  played  “oats,  pease,  beans,”  “hide 
the  thimble,”  etc.,  till  supper  time,  and  then  all  ad- 


57 


Something  for  Every  One 

journed  to  the  dining-room.  Tompkins  sat  up 
at  the  table  with  Myrtle  and  Henry,  and  little 
China  baby,  but  Catherine,  who  was  really  quite 
old  (more  than  two  years)  was  obliged  to  cry, 
she  felt  so  insulted  at  being  placed  among  the 
babies,  and  really  it  w^as  very  inconsiderate  to  do 
such  a thing,  so  they  apologized  and  gave  her  a 
place  among  the  old  ones  of  five  and  eight  at 
another  table.  While  Tompkins  was  entertain- 
ing his  friends  at  supper,  the  partitions  had  been 
removed  between  parlour  and  study,  the  candles 
lighted,  and  there  stood  the  tree  all  blazing  and 
glittering.  Such  a clapping  of  hands,  such  shin- 
ing eyes ! Each  of  the  babies  had  a rattle,  each 
of  the  boys  some  trumpet  or  musical  instrument, 
and  soon  the  racket  was  all  that  a boy  could  de- 
sire, or  Christmas  time-honoured  customs  demand. 

Tompkins,  who  is  very  particular,  evidently 
felt  quite  satisfied  that  it  w^as  all  right,  for  he 
went  fast  asleep  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  and  I am 
sorry  to  say  did  not  waken  in  time  to  bid  his 
guests  adieu. 

But  Tompkins’  tree  had  not  yet  completed  his 
mission.  More  than  a year  ago  some  large 
hearted  ladies  in  Missouri  had  sent  a generous 
gift  of  money  to  the  orphanage  boys,  and  now  it 
had  been  used  to  provide  them  such  a splendid 
Christmas  as  they  never  had  before.  Warm 
worsted  scarfs,  knives,  guns,  swords,  pocket  hand- 
kerchiefs, towels,  oranges,  etc. 


58  What  the  Boy  Found 

The  boys  were  all  invited  to  come  to  Tomp- 
kins’ house  to  tea.  They  had  rearranged  the 
tree,  and  made  it  very  pretty,  and  locked  it  in 
the  study  as  before.  In  the  supper  room  were 
long  low  tables  for  the  little  boys  to  take  their 
supper  on,  or  their  “ chenyak  ” as  they  call  their 
evening  meal,  and  on  the  dinner  wagon  and 
larger  tables  were  large  trays  of  bread,  sweet 
crackers,  cookies,  cakes,  tarts,  etc.,  etc.  At  the 
appointed  time  one,  the  very  smallest  boy  in  the 
orphanage,  came  timidly  in  and  inquired  if  the 
proper  time  had  arrived  for  them  to  come ; on 
learning  that  it  had  he  ran  quickly  down  to  the 
gate  to  inform  his  companions  who  were  waiting 
all  together  to  learn  the  result  of  his  inquiries. 
In  a few  moments  they  had  all  entered,  dropped 
their  wooden  shoes  in  the  hall  and  were  making 
their  most  humble  bows,  in  their  very  best  style. 

Speaking  of  shoes,  don’t  imagine  wooden  ones 
are  the  only  kind  Koreans  wear.  They  are  only 
for  mud  and  bad  weather  and  while  they  are  a 
little  clumsy  to  get  around  in  and  very  noisy,  they 
protect  the  feet  finely  from  wet  and  mud,  and 
protect  skirts  too  for  they  lift  the  wearer  nearly 
two  inches  off  the  ground.  In  addition  to  these 
however  there  are  straw  shoes,  used  by  working 
people,  string  shoes  very  neat  and  light,  and 
used  most  commonly  of  all,  and  leather  ones, 
which  are  according  to  taste  yellow,  white  or 
red,  with  considerable  decoration,  and  with  very 


Playing  Games  59 

thick  heavy  soles  studded  with  large  nail  heads. 
These  are  used  by  people  of  high  rank  or  those 
who  have  a good  deal  of  money.  All  shoes  are 
laid  aside  on  entering  the  house,  and  the  neat 
little  feet  in  pretty  white  stockings  look  very 
nice.  The  stockings  are  cut  from  muslin  cloth, 
and  fitted  to  the  foot.  For  very  cold  weather 
they  are  wadded,  making  everybody  look  as  if 
they  had  badly  swollen  feet  and  ankles. 

But  these  boys’  feet  if  swollen  certainly  didn’t 
seem  in  the  least  crippled ; quite  the  opposite. 
Such  a lively  and  brilliant  little  company,  coats 
of  cherry,  blue,  green,  purple,  red,  white,  with 
bright  ribbons  fastening  their  long  braids.  The 
Wons  soon  taught  them  some  of  our  American 
games  which  they  seemed  to  enjoy  very  much, 
and  after  romping  about  for  awhile  they  were 
taken  in  to  supper ; and  when  they  had  finished 
they  were  allowed,  true  Korean  style,  to  put  the 
remainder  of  the  cakes  and  goodies  into  their 
capacious  sleeves,  to  be  enjoyed  later. 

When  we  adjourned  to  the  other  room  and 
found  the  tree  waiting  in  all  its  glory,  when  the 
penknives,  etc.,  had  been  appropriated  by  their 
joyful  little  owners,  excitement  was  at  its  height. 
They  sat  speechless  with  pleasure.  The  boys 
couldn’t  remain  long  after  that.  They  were  ach- 
ing to  return  and  enjoy  their  gifts,  so  they  soon 
made  their  bows  and  farewells,  the  lights  were 
extinguished,  we  all  went  to  bed  and  to  sleep,  the 


6o 


What  the  Boy  Found 

tree  stood  there  alone  and  in  the  dark  all  night 
Early  in  the  morning  a dishonest  servant  robbed 
him  even  of  his  tinsel  and  paper  finery.  The 
master  came  and  said  he  had  served  his  day, 
and  now  he  must  be  removed.  So  he  was  carried 
away  and  cut  to  pieces  for  fire-wood.  But  even 
then  he  blazed  up  merrily  and  made  a delightful, 
warm,  cheery  fire,  and  even  his  ashes  were  used 
to  brighten  up  the  andirons  till  they  shone  as 
never  before.  Let  us  hope  the  life  of  the  tree 
may  be  “ typical  ” of  Tompkins’  life. 

Perhaps  you  expect  me  to  say  “ that  was  the 
end  of  Tompkins’  tree,”  but  it  wasn’t ; there  never 
will  be  any  end.  That  is  the  beauty  of  it.  The 
brightness  and  joy  of  it  will  go  on  forever.  Good 
deeds,  kind  actions,  sunshine,  cheer  and  Christ- 
mas trees  live  forever. 


Ill 


PON  GABE 

I’VE  been  wishing  to  tell  you  about  Pon  Gabe, 
all  along  without  being  able  to  find  a place  for 
him,  but  now  the  Wons  are  safely  home,  Christ- 
mas over  and  we  can  take  time  to  go  back  a 
ways,  and  begin  at  the  beginning. 

The  Captain  had  started  a home  and  school 
for  orphan  boys  some  time  before,  and  quite  a 
number  of  little  waifs  were  gathered  in;  among 
them,  tiniest  of  all,  Pon  Gabe. 

He  was  not  six  years  old,  Korean  count.  His 
father  who  was  a nobleman  of  high  rank  had 
been  banished  for  some  political  offense,  and  his 
mother  was  supposed  to  be  dead.  I said  Korean 
count  because  in  that  country  ages  are  counted 
in  quite  a different  way  from  ours. 

You  are  at  once,  as  soon  as  born,  one  year  old, 
and  if  you  happen  to  be  born  on  the  last  day  of 
the  year,  the  next  day  being  the  first  of  the  New 
Year,  you  are  two  years  old.  Then  you  are  no 
older  on  your  birthday  than  you  were  a month 
before,  unless  a new  year  has  begun  in  the 
meantime. 

You  see,  one  is  just  as  old  as  the  number  of 
years,  during  any  part  of  which,  one  has  lived, 

6i 


62 


Pon  Gabe 


and  a baby,  born  on  the  thirty-first  of  December, 
would,  one  year  and  a day  later,  on  the  first  of 
January,  be  three  years  old. 

So  poor  Pon  Gabe  was  really  not  more  than 
four  proper,  honest,  American  years  of  age,  when 
first  introduced  to  Pastor  Won,  by  his  uncle  who 
brought  him  to  the  school. 

Now  the  institution  was  very  primitive,  barely  es- 
tablished, and  there  were  no  proper  arrangements 
as  yet  for  taking  care  of  such  little  bits  of  fel- 
lows, who  cannot  even  wash  their  own  faces,  or 
braid  their  own  little  pigtails.  So  he  was  only 
allowed  to  remain  a few  days,  rather  under  pro- 
test, when  his  uncle  was  sent  for,  and  told  he 
must  take  him  away,  and  take  care  of  him.  Now 
Pm  afraid  the  wicked  uncle’s  one  idea  was  to 
get  rid  of  the  poor  little  troublesome  fellow.  At 
any  rate,  some  time  later,  news  came  that  the 
child  was  dangerously  sick,  and  without  ordinary 
comforts ; so  although  he  was  himself  too  sick  to 
walk,  Mr.  Won  hired  a chair,  and  armed  with 
some  medicine,  condensed  milk,  etc.,  went  to  see 
the  boy. 

He  found  a forlorn  little  waif,  wailing  in  a 
pitiful  weak  voice  for  food,  lying  on  a mat  on 
the  floor,  too  weak  to  lift  his  head.  When  he 
saw  the  tin  of  condensed  milk,  he  tried  to  bite  it 
open  with  his  teeth,  and  had  been  trying  to  tear 
off  and  eat  the  paper  on  the  wall.  It  looked 
darkly  probable  that  the  uncle  was  intending  to 


Will  He  Live  63 

starve  the  child  to  death,  rather  than  bear  the 
trouble  and  expense  of  his  support. 

So  Pastor  Won  decided  to  take  him  to  his 
own  home  and  try  to  save  that  feeble,  flickering 
little  flame  of  vitality  that  still  glimmered  in  its 
frail  vessel. 

Many  others  advised  against  this,  when  they 
heard  of  it,  and  saw  the  child.  “ He  is  too  feeble 
and  sick,  he  will  surely  die ; then  the  natives  will 
accuse  us  of  his  death,  and  drive  us  out  of  the 
country,”  was  their  argument,  and  a forceful  one, 
for  as  yet  Europeans  were  not  at  all  sure  of  their 
footing,  in  a country  so  recently  and  reluctantly 
opened. 

But  Pastor  Won  felt  he  couldn’t  listen  to  these 
words  of  counsel,  nor  think  of  results  where  the 
path  of  duty  seemed  so  plain,  so  he  opened  wide 
his  heart  and  home,  and  took  in  the  poor  little 
lost  lamb  “faint  and  hungry  and  ready  to  die.” 

But  it  was  a long  pull  for  poor  Pon  Gabe. 
For  days  and  weeks,  life  trembled  in  the  balance. 
Faithfully  his  foreign  friend  cared  for,  and 
watched  him.  Though  all  the  doctors  de- 
spaired, his  love  never  did,  and  at  length,  little 
by  little,  he  began  to  crawl  back  to  life. 

About  all  we  could  see  when  looking  at  him, 
was  just  a pair  of  great  liquid,  pathetic,  black 
eyes,  and  the  poor  little  skeleton  frame  of  a tiny 
child. 

But  with  kindness  and  food,  children  soon 


Pon  Gabe 


64 

prosper,  and  ere  long  he  was  as  happy,  plump 
and  bright  a little  fellow  as  could  be  seen  any- 
where. He  learned  English  with  surprising 
quickness,  speaking  it  like  any  foreign  child, 
and  this  made  him  very  helpful  at  times,  espe- 
cially after  Pastor  Won’s  marriage,  for  Mrs. 
Won,  who  could  not  yet  speak  Korean  well, 
used  him  as  interpreter  in  telling  the  women  the 
sweet  and  comforting  words  the  Lord  Jesus 
spoke  for  them. 

I’m  sure  these  blessed  truths  must  have  gone 
home  with  much  more  power  from  the  lips  of  a 
little  child,  of  their  own  nation,  than  if  they  had 
fallen  halting  from  the  mouth  of  a foreigner. 
Sure  God  uses  weak  things  to  confound  the 
mighty,  and  foolish  to  confound  the  wise,  and 
does  not  despise  small  things. 

So  they  two,  the  little  boy  and  the  foreign 
woman,  never  thought  what  a hopeless  task  it 
looked,  beginning  to  save  a nation  of  ten  mil- 
lions or  more,  but  with  just  their  poor  little  bas- 
ketful, only  five  loaves  and  a few  small  fishes, 
began  feeding  the  multitude. 

Probably  it  was  done  in  much  weakness  of  the 
flesh,  and  most  likely  at  times  half  heartedly,  but 
so  it  was,  Pon  Gabe  began  to  be  a blessing. 

And  when  Tompkins  came,  how  delighted  was 
the  little  Korean,  and  as  soon  as  baby  could 
notice  anything,  how  charmed  he  was  with  his 
little  black-eyed  native  playmate,  and  into  what 


Becoming  Americanized  65 

fits  of  laughter  he  went  when  Pon  Gabe  jumped, 
clapped  his  hands,  turned  somersaults,  or  played 
any  of  the  innumerable  antics  he  was  adept  in  for 
the  entertainment  of  the  newcomer. 

He  had  now  become  quite  an  American,  and 
talked  about  “going  home  to  the  United  States,” 
like  the  missionaries,  and  spoke  of  certain  things, 
by  association  taking  him  “ right  back  to  Amer- 
ica,” of  which  he  had  only  heard. 

He,  however,  never  lost  his  ideas  of  caste,  and 
was  quite  haughty,  or  else  loftily  condescending 
with  the  little  coolie  boys  in  the  orphanage,  for 
which  he  had  to  be  sternly  reproved  by  Pastor 
Won,  on  more  than  one  occasion. 

One  rule,  always  adhered  to,  and  most  happy 
in  its  results  with  Pon  Gabe,  and  later  with 
Tompkins,  was  never  to  punish  while  angry,  and 
never  under  any  circumstances  to  deceive  or  mis- 
lead the  child. 

They  were  never  told  bad  medicine  was  good, 
or  that  teeth  pulling  would  not  hurt,  or  promised 
what  was  not  intended  to  be  given.  They  knew 
that  the  parental  word  was  “ yea  and  amen  ” 
without  fail. 

Adherence  to  these  rules  simplified  things, 
made  them  more  submissive  under  chastisement, 
and  taught  truthfulness  in  the  best  way,  by 
example. 

I believe  the  Wons  were  as  ambitious  of  win- 
ning the  respect  of  these  little  ones,  if  not  more 


66 


Pon  Gabe 


so,  than  that  of  all  the  world  beside,  and  it  cer- 
tainly meant  much  for  all  concerned. 

While  the  Wons  were  away  for  two  years  in 
America,  Pon  Gabe  was  left  in  school  under  the 
especial  oversight  of  one  of  the  missionaries ; but 
his  relations  who  had  been  willing  to  cast  him  off 
in  his  helpless  infancy,  now  that  he  knew  the 
desirable  English  so  well,  and  had  served  the 
missionaries  as  interpreter,  in  an  important 
official  interview,  and  thus  proved  he  could  be 
useful  and  profitable,  spirited  him  away. 

About  a year  after  the  return  of  the  Wons,  and 
when  he  had  grown  old  enough  to  control  his 
own  actions,  he  visited  them,  to  their  and  his 
mutual  delight.  He  was  now  attending  govern- 
ment school  and  supporting  himself  in  part,  by 
copying  and  other  odd  jobs. 

He  seemed  as  earnest  a Christian  as  ever,  and 
had  grown  a fine  manly  little  fellow.  He  now 
regularly  spent  his  Sabbaths  and  holidays  with 
his  old  friends,  when  “ little  married  man  ” often 
came  too,  and  both  were  admired  and  revered 
by  Tompkins.  Of  “ little  married  man  ” more 
anon. 

After  leaving  school  Pon  Gabe  obtained  a 
lucrative  position  of  trust  in  a printing-office,  but 
still  lived  frugally,  worked  hard  and  remained 
true  to  his  faith. 

Later  he  went  to  America  with  three  other  young 
Koreans,  and  there  with  assistance  from  Christian 


Fannie  the  Fox  Terrier 


67 

people,  worked  his  way  through  college  and 
graduated  the  third  in  his  class,  with  high 
honours. 

Such  in  brief  is  the  story  of  Pon  Gabe,  Just 
one  piece  of  money  lost  and  found,  one  stray 
lamb  reserved  from  death.  It  was  worth  while, 
was  it  not,  and  I am  sure  if  our  ears  were  keener 
we  should  hear  the  echo  of  the  joyous  refrain  of 
the  angels  over  a ransomed  soul. 

Before  Tompkins  arrived  there  was,  besides 
Pon  Gabe,  another  member  of  the  Won  house- 
hold. “ Family,”  I was  going  to  say,  for  Fannie 
the  fox  terrier  was  almost  a personage.  I’m 
afraid  she  was  rather  fickle,  for  while  she  had 
been  the  Captain’s  faithful  slave  till  there  was  a 
prospect  of  a Mrs.  Won,  at  that  moment  she 
transferred  her  allegiance  to  the  future  queen  of 
the  household. 

She  brought  much  gibing,  persecution,  and 
unseemly  mockery  on  the  heads  of  the  afflicted 
couple,  by  haunting  the  residence  of  her  future 
mistress,  where  she  lay  for  hours  on  the  street 
door  mat,  thus  publishing  abroad  what  was  in- 
tended to  be  hid  from  the  public,  for  a time  at 
least.  She  was  known  far  and  near  by  the  na- 
tives and  foreigners  as  the  pastor’s  dog,  so  there 
was  no  doubt  about  the  significance  of  her 
actions. 

There  were  then,  and  are  even  now,  very  few 
foreign  dogs  in  Korea,  and  they  are  correspond- 


68 


Pon  Gabe 


ingly  valued.  The  native  dog  is  fed  on  a poor 
kind  of  rice,  never  petted  or  allowed  to  enter  the 
living  rooms,  and  almost  never  does  such  an  un- 
heard of  thing  as  to  follow  his  master  or  show 
signs  of  affection  for  him. 

They  appear  to  be  quite  lacking  in  any  of  the 
marks  of  civilization,  shown  by  their  Western 
cousins,  and  as  a rule  are  cowardly  and  currish. 

They  bark  loudly  and  show  their  teeth,  but 
slink  away  with  incurling  tail  if  an  enemy,  human 
or  brute,  comes  too  near.  Some  of  them  bear  a 
strong  resemblance  to  the  spitz,  and  again  there 
are  many  that  carry  all  the  marks  of  Scotch 
collies,  and  who  it  seems  to  the  writer,  must  be 
the  degenerate  descendants  of  those  clever  and 
attractive  animals.  They  have  thick  curly  hair, 
bushy  tails  and  sharp  muzzles,  with  a look  of 
sagacity,  and  when  well  fed,  and  well  treated, 
they  have  proved  to  be  useful,  intelligent  and 
affectionate. 

The  puppies  are  the  cunningest  and  most  en- 
ticing little  furry  balls  ever  seen.  And  now  I 
must  divulge  a sad  fact.  Most  of  the  dogs  are 
bred  and  kept  only  to  be  eaten.  A certain  season 
in  the  fall  is  the  usual  time  set  for  slaughter,  and 
then  there  is  a tragedy  in  every  neighbourhood, 
and  an  awful  fate  for  thousands  of  poor  dogs. 
They  are  dragged  away  by  the  dog  butcher 
screaming  and  resisting,  with  terror  in  their  eyes, 
and — well,  let  us  draw  a veil 


The  Use  of  Korean  Dogs  69 

What  a grand  motto  for  a Society  of  Preven- 
tion of  Cruelty  to  Animals  lies  in  that  nineteenth 
verse  of  the  eighth  of  Romans,  “ The  earnest 
expectation  of  the  creature  ivaiteth  for  the  nia^ii- 
festation  of  the  Sons  of  God."  I never  look  into 
meek,  patient  animal  eyes,  with  that  pathetic  ap- 
peal which  most  of  them  have,  without  thinking 
of  it. 

Nothing  can  be  more  touching  than  to  realize 
that  they  are  dumbly,  patiently,  looking  for  the 
day,  when  men  who  control  their  fate  so  largely, 
who  alas  are  often  more  beastly  and  animal  than 
they,  shall  become  manifestly  the  Sons  of  God, 
and  they  aiid  we,  all  be  delivered  together,  from 
the  bondage  in  which  we  all  groan.  But  neither 
they  nor  we  alone,  for  with  us  is  He  who  is 
touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,  and 
that  blessed  Spirit  agonizing  unutterably. 

It  seems  easier  when  one  thinks  one’s  own  little 
smart  is  part  of  the  great  whole,  and  that  our 
poor  lower  brothers,  the  brute  creation,  and  our 
great  Elder  Brother  are  all  “ touched  by  the  feel- 
ing of  our  infirmities.” 

Because  best  of  all  we  know  that  there  is  a 
sublime  Eternal  Purpose  in  it,  that  is  not,  or  need 
not  be  in  vain. 

“ That  not  a moth  with  vain  desire  is  shrivelled  in  a fruitless  fire 

Or  but  subserves  another  gain.” 

How  wonderfully  those  verses  in  that  eighth  of 


70 


Pon  Gabe 


Romans  deal  with  the  whole  problem  of  suffering 
in  all  created  things,  how  simple,  how  satisfying ! 

“The  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  that  shall 
follow.”  “ The  creature  was  made  subject  to  van- 
ity not  willingly  but  by  reason  of  Him  who  hath 
subjected  the  same  in  hope,  because  the  creature 
also  shall  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  corrup- 
tion into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of 
God." 

For  canines  in  Korea,  there  are  no  laws  of  any 
kind  so  far  as  I am  able  to  discover.  Marxy  mad 
dogs  run  the  streets  biting  men  and  animals ; and 
many  dogs  not  really  so,  are  doubtless  chased  to 
madness  by  alarmed  crowds  and  stoned  to  death. 
Even  while  these  lines  were  writing,  four  Euro- 
peans, and  several  Koreans,  were  bitten  by  rabid 
dogs  during  one  week.  Muzzles  although  used 
for  cattle  and  horses  are  unknown  for  dogs, 
pounds  and  licenses  unheard  of,  and  the  only 
check  therefore  to  the  dog  nuisance  is  the  slaugh- 
ter I have  referred  to.  On  the  other  hand  pup- 
pies are  rarely  drowned  or  killed  as  they  are  too 
young  to  eat,  and  to  destroy  them  would  be 
wasting  so  much  food,  so  dogs  abound  to  a far 
greater  extent  than  cleanliness,  comfort  or  safety 
would  allow.  No  Korean  family  is  without  at 
least  one. 

But  Fannie  was  an  animal  of  quite  another  type 
than  these  poor  creatures,  with  all  the  spirit  and 


A Fire-Cracker  Diet 


71 


sagacity  of  her  brilliant  ancestors.  She  owned 
an  affectionate  heart,  and  a good  strong  will  too, 
for,  from  the  day  when  she  attached  herself  to 
Mrs.  Won,  till  her  untimely  death,  she  never 
could  by  persuasions,  threats  or  force,  be  induced 
to  leave  the  house  if  her  mistress  were  in  it,  or  to 
remain  there  when  that  lady  went  forth. 

She  was  a plucky  little  creature,  and  when  fire 
crackers  were  set  off  in  celebration  of  the  Fourth 
of  July,  no  doubt  supposing  them  to  be  from  their 
insolent  yapping,  some  kind  of  “ Kwesin  ” (evil 
spirits),  she  flew  at  them  and  taking  a blazing 
string  of  them,  while  still  exploding,  in  her  brave 
little  jaws,  shook  them  like  so  many  rats. 

Thereafter  her  mistress,  terrified  for  the  safety 
of  the  creature,  had  her  held  during  the  further 
exhibitions,  but  this  was  no  easy  matter,  for  fran- 
tic were  her  efforts  to  reach  and  destroy  the  en- 
emy. She  no  doubt  felt  that  the  family  for  whose 
safety  she  was  responsible  were  in  terrible  dan- 
ger, and  that  she  must  meet  and  battle  with  this 
one  at  all  costs.  She  was  a faithful  little  friend, 
and  they  all  appreciated  her  devotion. 

So  at  length  you  have  been  made  acquainted 
with  the  Won  household.  Master,  mistress,  chil- 
dren, nurse,  cook,  and  even  the  dog,  as  well  as  the 
house  and  garden. 

And  now,  in  spite  of  the  joy  the  little  son 
brought,  a Shadow  began  t©  lengthen  again  in 
the  home.  Sickness  and  Pain  walked  in  unin- 


72 


Pon  Gabe 


vited.  Fever  sapped  the  strength  of  Tompkins’ 
Amonni  and  pain  held  her  every  day  in  his  grip, 
that  would  not  loosen.  What  was  worse  he  said 
he  had  come  to  stay.  He  whispered  in  the  night 
in  so  loud  a whisper,  that  she  thought  it  might 
be  heard  through  the  whole  house,  that  she  should 
always  be  crippled,  and  never  again  be  free  from 
his  company,  never  be  strong  or  well,  and  always 
need  to  lean  on  others  for  aid. 

The  Captain  was  away  when  the  hard  words 
went  w'histling  like  knives  through  the  night  air, 
or  he  would  have  hushed  them,  or  made  the 
woman  forget  them  with  his  cheery  presence. 
As  it  was  she  almost  forgot  them ; taking  care  of 
Tompkins,  and  singing  to  the  baby,  kept  her 
own  heart  from  failing  altogether. 

She  often  felt  too  that  she  could  well  afford  to 
suffer  when  her  pain  was  like  a musician,  that 
with  wondrous  skill  touched  the  keys  of  other 
hearts  and  drew  forth  divine  strains  of  love, 
sympathy,  tenderness,  helpfulness  and  unselfish- 
ness, so  that  through  and  because  of  it,  the 
whole  household,  and  circle  of  friends  were  more 
heavenly  and  Christlike. 

Pastor  Won  had  been  obliged  to  go  away  on 
important  mission  business,  before  his  wife  grew 
so  very  ill,  and  was  forced  to  be  gone  a long 
time,  it  seemed  ages  to  her,  it  was  three  infinite 
weeks.  For  you  see  even  time  can  be  infinite, 
in  height  and  depth,  if  not  in  length. 


73 


Captain’s  Return 

Every  few  days  a telegram  came  and  some- 
times a letter,  but  absence  was  hard  to  bear 
especially  at  a time  like  this. 

When  it  was  time  for  the  husband  to  return  in 
the  insane  little  Japanese  steamer,  along  the 
most  dangerous  coast  in  the  world,  w'here  sub- 
merged rocks,  narrow  channels,  treacherous 
currents,  high  tides,  and  blinding  fogs,  combine 
to  destroy  the  traveller,  the  March  winds 
shrieked  for  three  days,  sweeping  in  fury  over 
land  and  sea. 

Tompkins’  Amonni  never  slept  those  nights; 
her  heart  was  tossing  about  on  the  sea  with  that 
little  steamer.  Far  out  to  the  black,  roaring 
ocean  the  sailor  turned  his  boat,  right  into  the 
raging  deep  whose  billows  were  safer  far  than 
the  treacherous  rocky  coast,  and  all  through 
the  storm  God  held  the  frail  little  bark  and 
its  inmates  safe. 

Safely  back  to  port  they  came,  and  when  Mrs. 
Won’s  Captain  opened  the  door,  and  walked  in, 
hearty,  ruddy,  smiling,  a perfect  reservoir  of 
good  cheer,  strength  and  hope,  she  came  to 
port  too,  with  small  delay,  and  once  there,  felt 
that  all  the  storms  in  the  world  could  not  dis- 
turb her  calm 

Yet  even  so,  disease  was  not  to  be  ousted,  or 
pain  driven  away,  and  therefore,  at  length 
reluctantly,  these  people  came  to  realize  they 
must  obey  the  doctor,  leave  their  work  and 


74 


Pon  Gabe 


adopted  country,  and  return  across  the  great 
ocean  to  the  home  land,  if  perchance  life  might 
be  saved.  And  then  how  the  kindness  welled 
up  and  overflowed ! Everybody  helped.  Gar- 
ments, curtains,  bedding,  linen,  carpets,  must  be 
wrapped  up  with  camphor,  insect  powder, 
tobacco  and  red  pepper,  and  packed  in  zinc 
lined  boxes.  Mattresses  must  be  swung  from 
beams  in  the  ceiling,  to  keep  off  rats,  china 
must  be  nailed  up  with  care  in  boxes,  and  stores 
of  canned  milk,  butter,  meats,  vegetables,  fruits, 
etc.,  must  be  sold. 

Warm  travelling  things  must  be  made  for 
Tompkins  and  his  Amonni,  who  now  could  do 
nothing  but  try  to  suffer  patiently.  Those  who 
looked  at  the  emanciated  form  and  sunken, 
ghastly  features,  never  thought  to  see  her  again, 
and  did  not  even  believe  she  would  reach  Japan, 
but  God’s  plans  were  different. 

Little  by  little  under  the  reviving  influence  of 
pure  ocean  air,  and  constant  care,  the  pain  and 
fever  relaxed  a little,  and  she  began  slowly  to 
amend. 

Reaching  America  how  dear  and  beautiful  the 
look  of  the  veriest  hovel,  that  belonged  to  home 
land ! The  unseemly  outskirts  of  the  city,  the 
very  wharves  seemed  to  wear  a peculiar  and 
special  grace,  for  be  it  ever  so  humble,  there’s 
no  place  like  home. 

No  familiar  face  as  yet  greeted  them,  no  loved 


Back  to  America 


75 


voice  blessed  the  ear,  but  it  was  enough  just  at 
first,  all  they  could  bear,  perhaps,  surely  all  they 
needed,  to  see  a whole  town,  full  of  white  people, 
real  Americans,  their  own  dear  compatriots,  and 
to  hear  the  familiar  accents  of  their  own  native 
tongue. 

They  lingered  awhile,  near  the  Golden  Gate 
for  Tompkins’  Amonni  to  gain  more  strength 
for  the  long  overland  journey,  and  then  slowly 
made  their  way  eastward,  to  meet  the  inexpress- 
ible joy  of  reunion  with  those  who  were  left  in 
heart  throes  of  anguish  years  ago.  It  seems  a 
little  odd,  that  to  reach  western  countries  from 
Korea,  Japan  and  China,  we  usually  travel  east, 
but  that  is  what  the  Wons  had  been  doing  for 
more  than  a month.  Pastor  Won  was  sent  for 
hither  and  yon  to  tell  Americans  about  the  in- 
teresting people  and  the  open  door  in  Korea,  so 
sometimes  it  was  in  the  south,  sometimes  in  the 
far  west,  sometimes  on  the  Atlantic  seaboard, 
that  Tompkins’  Amonni  and  he  journeyed,  and 
it  was  not  long  before  the  little  boy’s  assortment 
of  nurses  was  quite  large. 

After  a long  stay  in  America  Mrs.  Won  was 
sufficiently  improved  to  return  to  Korea ; though 
not  entirely  well  she  hoped  she  might  even  yet 
be  of  some  use  in  helping  Korean  women  up  to 
the  light.  So  they  started  back  this  time  by 
way  of  the  Adantic,  Europe,  the  Suez  Canal  and 
so  round  to  Japan  and  Korea. 


IV 


KOREAN  NURSERY  LIFE 

Arrived  in  Nagasaki  our  friends,  the  Wons, 
found  themselves  nearly  out  of  money,  as 
travellers  are  not  unapt  to  be  after  all  the  unex- 
pected extras  everybody  meets  when  taking  long 
tours.  They  were  forced  to  wait  some  days  in 
Nagasaki  and  knew  well  the  contents  of  their 
slender  pocketbook  would  never  satisfy  the  hotel- 
keepers.  But  they  need  have  felt  no  anxiety. 
The  Methodist  Cornells  accidentally  coming 
down  to  the  steamer  received  them  with  open 
arms,  took  them  to  their  own  home,  where  they 
loaded  them  with  kindness,  and  sent  them  on 
their  way  rejoicing. 

They  reached  Seoul  at  last,  finding  a party  of 
friends  at  the  landing  with  a warm  welcome,  and 
a crowd  of  Korean  Christians  as  well  surged 
around  them,  each  eager  to  be  first  with  a joyful 
greeting  to  the  “ Moxa.”  How  good  the  look  of 
the  familiar  white  garments,  how  welcome  the 
sound  of  the  soft  liquid  speech,  how  dear  the 
smiling  faces  of  their  flock. 

They  always  seemed  so  like  sheep  to  Pastor 
Won  and  his  wife,  so  ignorant,  so  helpless,  so 
without  resources,  so  unsheltered,  surrounded  by 

76 


At  Work  Again  77 

political,  physical  and  spiritual  enemies,  and  so 
sorely  needing  shepherding  and  folding. 

And  when  in  the  dusk,  under  the  quiet  stars, 
they  all  flocked  out  of  church  and  down  the  road, 
before  the  pastor,  their  white  garments  dimly 
gleaming  in  the  dark,  especially  the  women  with 
their  white  aprons  over  their  heads,  they  looked 
not  unlike  a flock  of  sheep  trotting  leisurely  fold- 
ward. 

Now  that  they  had  returned  from  such  wide 
wanderings  to  their  adopted  country,  their  people, 
their  work,  and  their  friends,  Korea  seemed  much 
more  than  before,  like  home.  The  Captain 
plunged  into  work,  preaching,  organizing,  plan- 
ning, writing,  translating,  itinerating,  urging  and 
encouraging  the  native  Christians,  for  there  were 
millions  of  people  living  without  God  and  with- 
out hope  and  going  down  to  death  unsaved. 

Nothing ; no  condition  could  be  worse  than 
that,  since  to  be  without  God  and  without  hope 
is  the  very  cause  and  essence  of  hell.  Burdened, 
heavy  laden  with  toil,  sorrow,  and  sin,  with  none 
to  help  and  no  ray  on  the  dark  way,  millions  of 
people,  our  brothers,  are  existing  thus,  blindly 
struggling  on. 

The  missionaries  were  still  very  few,  just  a 
little  handful  of  people,  almost  overwhelmed 
with  what  they  saw,  and  the  problems  and 
responsibilities  of  the  work  before  them. 

As  for  poor  Tompkins  he  was  having  a hard 


y8  Korean  Nursery  Life 

fight  for  existence.  Whether  he  had  a peculiarly 
cranky  little  digestive  apparatus,  or  whether,  as 
was  more  likely,  the  milk,  which  the  Chinaman 
extracted  from  his  ill-fed  and  ill-kept  cows  was 
unwholesome,  the  child  could  not  manage  his 
food,  grew  thin,  pale  and  feverish,  and  was  for 
months  such  a poor,  pitiful,  starved  little  creature 
that  it  made  your  heart  ache.  His  prepared 
canned  food  gave  out  too,  no  more  could  be  had 
from  China  or  Japan,  and  weary  was  the  waiting 
for  the  ship  that  was  to  bring  life.  There  were 
long,  awful  nights  of  watching,  when  the  weak 
pulse  flickered  like  a tiny  candle  in  too  fierce  a 
gale,  but  God  shielded  the  precious  little  flame, 
so  that  it  did  not  go  out. 

Tompkins’  Amonni  tells  in  her  diary  of  a 
little  hymn,  which  he  had  learned  to  say,  which 
was  quite  symbolic  of  his  own  life.  He  could  not 
pronounce  the  sounds  at  all  well,  as  you  will  see, 
saying  “ hyip''  for  ship,  etc. 

“ A little  hyip  wath  on  the  sea 
It  wath  a pretty  hyight. 

It  hyailed  along  so  pleasantly 
And  all  was  calm  and  bright. 

When  lo  a torm  began  to  wise, 

The  wind  blew  loud  and  stwong ; 

It  drew  the  cloudth  akwoss  the  skies. 

It  blew  the  waveth  along, 

And  all  but  One  were  sore  afraid  of 
sinking  in  the  deep.” 


But  the  Master  rebuked  the  winds  and  the  waves 


79 


Hardy  Native  Babies 

“ and  quelled  them  with  a word,”  and  the  small 
ship  weathered  the  storm  at  last,  but  it  was  a 
very  pale  and  weak  little  boy,  who  was  carried 
out  in  the  fresh  air  that  fall,  in  his  mamma’s 
sedan  chair.  Many  a time  as  Tompkins’ 
Amonni  looked  at  the  hardy  native  babies,  of  two 
and  three  years,  eating  melons  and  cucumbers, 
rind  and  all,  carried  about  in  the  cold  autumn 
or  even  winter  weather  with  scant  wraps  or  none, 
her  heart  ached  for  her  frail  little  blossom. 

Either  these  babies  are  all  very  hardy,  or  it  is 
a case  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  for  they  are 
exposed  in  such  a multitude  of  ways,  the  wonder 
is,  the  race  is  perpetuated  at  all. 

Smallpox  is  their  worst  foe,  though  according 
to  the  mandates  of  superstition  the  spirit  god 
who,  as  they  believe,  makes  it  a specialty,  and 
distributes  it  around  so  impartially  and  gener- 
ously, is  treated  as  an  honoured  guest  and  propi- 
tiated in  every  way  possible. 

On  the  twelfth  day  of  his  stay,  the  heads  of 
the  family  thus  visited,  after  washing  their  whole 
bodies  with  pure  water  and  with  hands  perfectly 
clean,  bring  a bowl  of  the  purest  water  to  be  had, 
fresh  from  the  spring,  and  pray  before  it  to  “ the 
distinguished  highness,”  that  he  will  kindly  de- 
part, without  working  any  evil  to  the  little 
patient.  Sorcerers  are  called  in,  a feast  is  made, 
and  sacrifices  offered,  literally,  to  speed  the 
parting  guest.  If  the  family  are  poor,  they 


8o  Korean  Nursery  Life 

make  a small  horse  and  bowl  of  straw,  and  fill- 
ing- the  latter  with  food,  fasten  it  on  the  back  of 
the  horse  and  have  it  carried  some  distance 
for  the  use  of  the  spirit,  who  it  is  hoped  will  take 
this  broad  hint,  and  depart  with  his  provender. 

To  make  his  journey  easier  a small  paper  um- 
brella is  also  sent  with  the  horse,  to  shield  his 
godship  from  the  heat  of  the  sun  or  the  wetness 
of  the  rain.  As  when  a friend  of  high  distinction 
comes,  the  ordinary  business  is  laid  aside,  and 
ordinary  comers  are  dismissed  unseen.  The  house 
is  closed  and  a dignified  quiet  attends  on  the 
presence.  After  the  disease  is  safely  over,  the 
scales  which  have  fallen  from  the  sores  are  care- 
fully collected  and  carried  to  some  temple  or 
shrine  and  there  burned  as  a most  acceptable 
sacrifice. 

Should  the  little  victim  die,  it  must  not  be 
buried  till  “the  friend”  has  entirely  left  the  neigh- 
bourhood, but  is  left  above  ground  to  remind  the 
demon  that  he  has  taken  his  quota  from  that 
family,  lest  in  a fit  of  forgetfulness,  he  should 
carry  away  another  child. 

When  a well  beloved  little  prince  was  attacked 
with  this  disease,  the  palace  gates  were  closed,  all 
business  therein  came  to  a standstill,  and  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  yen  were  spent  in  mollify- 
ing the  smallpox  deity.  The  sorcerers  went  into 
a trance  condition,  and  told  the  royal  family  the 
wishes  of  “ his  Highness,  the  Sonim  ” (guest). 


The  Smallpox  God 


8i 


Money  was  thrown  to  crowds  of  poor  in  the 
streets,  night  after  night,  so  that  the  child  might 
have  their  prayers.  When  the  god  still  lingered, 
it  was  learned  that  he  yearned  for  an  escort  to 
Weeju  on  the  northern  frontier,  and  that  when 
that  was  handsomely  provided  he  would  depart. 
Accordingly  a train  of  horses  loaded  with  food 
and  valuable  presents  (attended  of  course  by  the 
sorcerers)  were  sent  from  Seoul  to  the  north,  and 
by  the  time  they  had  reached  the  border,  the  little 
prince  was  convalescent. 

Natives  are  now,  however,  very  generally  ad- 
mitting the  benefits  of  vaccine,  and  are  glad  to 
use  it.  Among  them,  children  are  the  only  ones 
attacked,  for  the  good  reason  that  all  liviyig 
adults  have  had  it,  at  least  once.  Few  precau- 
tions are  taken  to  prevent  exposure,  in  fact  they 
do  not  know  how.  Children  are  not  counted,  till 
they  have  had  it,  every  one  dreads  and  fears  it, 
nor  will  they  call  a doctor  or  give  medicine  for  it. 
At  the  Wons’,  they  discovered  one  day,  that  the 
gateman’s  child  had  been  sick  with  it  for  some 
time,  and  he  coming  into  their  dining-room  every 
morning  to  prayers ! Again,  the  cook  one  day 
informed  Mrs.  Won  that  her — the  cook’s — baby, 
or  rather  the  baby  of  the  concubine  she  had  kindly 
provided  for  her  husband,  had  the  smallpox,  she 
having  slept  in  the  room  every  night,  and  calmly 
come  forth  each  day,  to  prepare  the  food  for 
Tompkins  and  his  parents. 


82  Korean  Nursery  Life 

Again  while  holding  a women’s  meeting  in  a 
street  chapel  Mrs.  Won  saw  a woman  holding  a 
baby,  very  closely  wrapped,  which  she  found  was 
sick  with  smallpox  well  developed. 

Pastor  Won  and  his  wife  both  seemed  to  be 
immune,  and  had  no  fear  but  for  their  Tompkins. 

Foreigners  in  Korea  are  so  constantly  liable  to 
contagion  and  in  such  a variety  of  ways,  with  so 
few  cases  of  the  disease,  that  it  is  a wonderful 
vindication  of  the  claims  of  vaccine. 

During  seventeen  years  there  were  only  seven 
cases  of  smallpox  among  all  the  foreigners  in  the 
country.  Of  these,  four  died,  three  of  them  being 
missionaries.  Four  at  least  of  the  seven  had 
never  been  vaccinated,  and  in  the  other  three 
cases  evidence  that  their  vaccination  had  taken 
was  either  uncertain,  or  it  had  been  administered 
many  years  previous  to  exposure. 

Scarlet  fever,  measles,  whooping  cough  and 
diphtheria  are  sown  through  whole  villages  with 
the  same  carelessness  and  ignorance  displayed  in 
the  treatment  of  all  disease.  Dysentery,  cholera 
infantum,  and  blindness  claim  thousands  of  vic- 
tims. One  instance  will  illustrate  how  childish 
the  people  are.  A little  one  suffering  with  a 
malignant  and  acute  eye  disease  was  brought  to 
the  dispensary  at  a stage  when  by  active  and 
prompt  measures,  a cure  was  still  possible.  The 
baby,  for  it  was  only  two  or  three  years  old,  was 
afraid  of  the  foreign  doctor  and  when  an  attempt 


Little  Nurses 


83 

was  made  to  treat  the  eyes  it  was  met  with  furi- 
ous resistance  and  the  wildest  outcries.  The 
mother  was  then  told  to  hold  the  child  firmly  so 
that  medicine  could  be  applied,  but  in  vain.  She 
could  not  bear  to  hear  the  child  cry. 

The  situation  and  the  danger  were  explained 
but  with  no  effect ; the  childish  parent  preferred 
to  risk  the  child’s  blindness,  to  resisting  its  strug- 
gles and  screams,  and  carried  it  away  to  its 
fate. 

Babies  when  not  six  weeks  old  are  often  tied 
on  another  child’s  back  and  carried  about  thus  for 
hours.  Poor  little  tots,  not  more  than  six  or 
seven,  and  looking  only  three  or  four,  go  tod- 
dling about,  baby  ridden,  hardly  able  to  carry 
their  heavy  burden,  yet  they  rarely  complain. 
Their  hands  being  free,  they  play  almost  as  vig- 
orously as  the  unshackled,  the  babies’  heads  bob- 
bing round  in  a way  certain  to  bring  an  Ameri- 
can parent’s  heart  into  her  mouth  with  consterna- 
tion, but  viewed  with  perfect  sang-froid  by  the 
Koreans. 

The  little  nurses  often  seem  quite  proud  of 
the  responsibility,  and  appear  very  fond  of  little 
brother  or  sister. 

The  children  of  the  rich  have  plenty  of  gaily- 
coloured  and  well-padded  garments,  but  the  poor 
are  extremely  thinly  clad  in  the  sharpest  weather. 
I have  seen  little  boys  with  only  one  thin  cotton 
jacket,  unlined,  in  freezing  temperature,  while  in 


84  Korean  Nursery  Life 

summer,  many  boys  under  six  go  altogether 
unattired. 

Tompkins’  Amonni  one  day  saw  quite  a pic- 
turesque little  chain  of  several  such  tiny  boys, 
with  laughing  eyes  and  shining  skin,  dancing 
down  the  street  side  by  side,  each  carrying  a 
graceful  lotus-leaf  sunshade  to  shield  his  brown 
little  body  from  the  sun  ; and  from  their  minia- 
ture little  pigtails  to  their  tiny  toes,  not  a gar- 
ment, not  a thread  interfered  with  their  untram- 
melled freedom.  Mrs.  Won  had  two  natures 
which  strove  mightily  within  her  at  times.  The 
one  was  shocked,  the  other  delighted.  The  one 
rejoiced  in  the  picture  with  its  unique  eastern 
setting,  in  the  childish  grace,  beauty  of  form, 
harmony  of  colour  and  infantile  innocence  and 
freedom,  the  other  thought  of  the  ignorance  and 
vice  in  which  these  little  ones  were  born,  and 
which  surrounded  them  like  an  atmosphere,  saw 
the  disease  misery  and  filth  that  overshadowed 
them  and  a whole  population,  and  wept. 

But  as  usual  I have  run  far  ahead  of  my  poor 
little  story  which,  do  its  best,  can  never  keep  up, 
and  gets  rather  discouraged  trying  to  be  a story 
at  all  under  such  harrowing  circumstances ; and 
no  wonder,  for  between  you  and  me,  no  story, 
much  less  such  a little  one,  can  compare  to  the 
interest  that  lies  in  such  a queer  old  nation  as 
Korea.  Ever  since  Tompkins  began  on  the  first 
page  he  has  had  to  hang  back  in  the  shade  and 


HOW  WOMEN  CARRY  BABIES  IN  KOREA 


131 


if 


The  Sound  of  War 


85 

give  place  to  the  country,  and  it’s  evidently  go- 
ing to  be  that  way  to  the  end.  It  isn’t  so  bad 
either  when  a boy  or  a man  can  lose  himself 
completely  for  a country  or  a cause. 

When  I digressed  he  had  been  very  sick  and 
was  just  getting  out.  But  even  before  that  the 
Japan-China  War  had  begun.  There  wasn’t 
any  real  fighting  in  Seoul  where  Tompkins  was, 
only  once  they  heard  the  sound  of  guns,  and 
that  was  when  one  July  morning  the  Japanese 
came  and  took  the  city  and  the  palace  without 
bloodshed.  But  through  the  long,  hot  months 
of  that  awful  summer,  on  account  of  the  w'ar, 
foreigners  were  confined  within  the  city,  which 
lies  in  a valley,  shut  in  on  all  sides  by  mountains 
and  overhung  with  miasma,  which  few  cooling 
or  purifying  winds  could  reach.  Its  loathsome 
ditches  filled  the  air  with  sickening  odours  intensi- 
fied by  masses  of  decaying  fruit  and  vegetables, 
which  lay  rotting  everywhere.  The  palace  was 
unconsciously  nearing  the  terrible  tragedy  which 
was  to  end  the  story  of  the  doomed  queen.  Many 
of  the  people  had  fled  to  the  country  on  the  first 
arrival  of  the  army,  hundreds  of  shops  were 
closed,  the  streets  seemed  deserted ; an  awesome 
calm,  like  that  in  the  centre  of  a whirlwind,  lay 
over  the  whole  city. 

Sickness  attacked  the  foreigners  crowded  to- 
gether in  that  humid  atmosphere.  Scarcely  a 
family  escaped ; dysentery  and  fevers  were  com- 


86  Korean  Nursery  Life 

mon ; and  not  only  Tompkins,  but  the  Captain, 
who  seldom  succumbed,  was  now  sick.  About 
a mile  outside  the  wall,  on  a breezy  hillside,  was 
a native  house  with  bushes  and  shade  trees,  but 
best  of  all  pure  fresh  air,  and  this  had  been 
bought  as  a shelter  for  sick,  outcast  Koreans, 
many  of  whom  used  to  be  turned  out  to  die,  by 
cruel  masters.  But  there  were  none  there  now, 
the  war  having  frightened  so  many  away,  and 
thither  the  Won  family  were  carried  every  morn- 
ing, and  there  they  stayed  till  nightfall,  trying  to 
lay  in  large  stores  of  pure  air.  Other  mission- 
aries, too,  sought  that  shelter  for  themselves  and 
their  little  ones.  More  than  one  short  grave  was 
dug  in  the  cemetery  that  summer,  and  many 
were  the  parents  who  clutched  their  little  ones  to 
their  bosoms,  not  knowing  how  soon  the  Reaper 
would  come  their  way,  many  the  watchers  who 
hardly  dared  hope  morning  would  find  all 
there. 

But  with  the  fall  came  cool  and  bracing  air, 
the  rains  stopped  and  the  sick  began  to  creep 
out,  pale  and  wan  enough  no  doubt. 

Before  he  could  sit  up  in  bed  Tompkins  had 
a birthday.  Of  course  birthdays  were  never 
snubbed  in  such  a sentimental  family.  On  the 
contrar}’  they  were  looked  forward  to  for  weeks, 
prepared  for  with  great  pains,  and  celebrated 
with  all  possible  honour.  So  at  this  time  the 
little  invalid  was  carried  into  a sunny  room  full 


Tompkins’  Birthday  87 

of  August  lilies  smiling  and  nodding  at  him 
from  all  sides,  so  it  really  looked  like  a 
bower. 

The  perfume  and  sunshine  kissed  Tompkins 
the  moment  the  door  was  opened,  and  wished 
him  many  happy  returns.  He  knew  it  perfectly 
well,  though  they  didn’t  speak  English  or  Korean 
either.  But  that  wasn’t  all,  some  one  had  wound 
up  the  music-box  (one  of  the  things  grandmother 
had  sent)  and  there  the  gayest,  sweetest  little 
tune  was  rippling  out,  all  laughter  and  love.  It 
mingled  in  the  friendliest  way  with  the  perfume 
and  sunlight,  till  it  was  hard  to  tell,  in  the  general 
harmony,  which  was  which.  I suspect  they  were 
all  really  one,  having  one  Source. 

Right  in  plain  view  on  the  music-box  were  a 
lot  of  gay  little  soldiers  and  other  toys.  He  was 
an  easily  pleased  little  boy,  and  this  would  have 
been  quite  enough,  but  his  Amonni  was  hard 
to  satisfy.  She  wanted  a party,  and  would  have 
it.  It  was  as  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  the  Per- 
sians that  there  must  be  a party  at  least  on 
Christmases  and  birthdays.  Poor  Tompkins 
could  only  eat  patented,  prepared  invalid’s  food, 
but  he  wanted  to  see  his  little  friends  eating 
something  nice ; so  there  was  ice  cream,  a birth- 
day cake,  lemonade,  sandwiches,  etc.,  all  on  a ta- 
ble close  by  the  bed.  Candles  could  not  be 
bought  or  borrowed  for  love  or  money.  Mrs. 
Won  found  she  had  only  three.  So  two  were  cut 


88  Korean  Nursery  Life 

in  half  for  the  four  years,  and  one  nice  one  in  the 
centre  served  for  the  life  candle. 

When  the  little  fellow  was  propped  up  on  pil- 
lows and  some  of  his  best  friends,  not  too,  many, 
came  in  softly,  not  to  tire  him,  and  ate  the  birth- 
day feast,  he  was  supremely  content.  Each 
brought  some  little  gift,  some  of  their  own  books 
or  toys,  and  ever  so  much  love,  and  his  heart  was 
overflowing  with  joy,  though  he  never  tasted  any 
mortal  food  but  somebody’s  patent  milk. 

“ Oleduster,”  his  way  of  pronouncing  Augusta, 
a beautiful  little  girl,  five  or  six  years  older  than 
he,  was  his  Dulciana,  and  she  came  and  sat  by 
his  side,  kissed  him,  ate  his  cake  and  ice  cream 
and  bestowed  upon  him  one  of  her  favourite 
toys.  Could  greater  bliss  be  asked  ? And  Harry 
and  Maurice,  his  two  heroes,  big  boys  of  eight 
and  nine,  came  too.  They  were  Tompkins’ 
ideals,  the  wholesome  kind-hearted  sort  of  “big” 
boys  who  do  not  despise  or  overreach  little  ones, 
and  instead  of  snubbing  or  patronizing  them 
treat  them  as  equals.  “ Maurice,”  said  his  mother 
one  day,  “ how  did  you  know  it  would  please 
Tompkins  to  be  treated  like  a big  boy?”  “Ah, 
mother,”  said  he,  “Mr.  T.  treated  me  that  way 
one  day,  and  I know  just  how  good  it  felt.” 

This  party,  I am  sure,  was  the  best  medicine 
Tompkins  had,  for  he  improved  very  fast  after 
that.  About  this  time,  no  one  knew  why,  he  be- 
gan to  resent  his  nickname  . perhaps  because  so 


Dapple  Grey  89 

many  people  laughed  at  it.  His  objections  were 
so  decided,  it  had  to  be  dropped,  and  so  he  was 
sometimes  called  Harry,  but  very  often  Brown 
Eyes,  for  with  his  pale  transparent  little  face,  the 
great  clear  beautiful  brown  eyes  seemed  almost 
all  there  was  of  him. 

Brown  Eyes  and  Dapple  Grey  were  now  four 
years  old.  The  former  had  just  come  into  the 
glory  of  his  first  trousers  and  pockets,  and  Dap- 
ple Grey  had  his  first  ornaments  in  the  form  of 
three  large,  magnificent  red  rosettes,  one  under 
’each  of  his  elegant  long  ears,  and  one  on  his 
intellectual  forehead.  He  had  a gay  little  red 
saddle  cloth,  too,  and  when  Brown  Eyes  was 
mounted  on  his  back,  and  they  went  ambling 
along,  the  child  singing  his  favourite  song,  “ Joy- 
shall,  joyshall,  joyshall  wazh  the  day,  when  first 
I thaw  the  burden  of  my  heart  rolled  away,”  and 
Dapple  Grey  flapped  his  short  tail  and  long  ears 
contentedly,  they  made  a pretty  little  picture  and 
an  amusing  one  to  the  natives,  who  were  accus- 
tomed to  see  only  dignified  personages  of  dis- 
tinction ride  on  donkeys,  so  they  began  calling 
him  the  “cheugen  taiin”  or  “little  great  man.” 

The  friendly  people  seemed  greatly  pleased, 
and  everywhere  the  little  couple  were  followed  by 
laughter,  exclamations  of  applause  and  looks  of 
amused  surprise. 

Dapple  Grey  was  very  small.  Brown  Eyes  not 
very  large,  and  the  Korean  who  led  the  donkey. 


QO  Korean  Nursery  Life 

looked  bigger  than  both  of  them  together,  and 
had  to  take  a great  many  jokes  from  the  by- 
standers on  the  subject,  or  as  they  would  say,  he 
had  to  eat  a good  deal  of  “yok”  which  means 
ridicule.  It  doesn’t  sound  unlike  “joke”  you 
see,  and  doubtless  is  its  second  cousin.  Koreans 
are  fond  of  children,  fond  of  jokes  or  “yok” — 
when  they  do  not  have  to  “eat  it”  themselves, — 
fond  of  anything,  in  fact,  that  will  make  them 
laugh,  and  forget  their  hard  dull  lives,  so  that 
Brown  Eyes  and  Dapple  Grey  were  almost  as 
entertaining  as  a circus  for  them. 

What  they  will  say  to  a real  circus  when  it 
comes,  and  I’m  told  one  is  really  on  the  way 
(this  old  world  spins  so  fast),  there  is  no  telling. 
They  sometimes  have  rope  dancers  and  acrobats 
who  are  very  clever  fellows,  and  quite  often  the 
young  Buddhist  priests  go  about,  performing,  and 
dancing,  flinging  long  ribbands  about  in  such  a 
skillful  way,  and  with  such  wonderful  rapidity, 
that  they  take  certain  shapes  the  players  wish, 
whirling  above  their  heads  in  the  air. 

Koreans  have  no  public  places  of  amusement, 
no  theatres,  concerts,  lectures,  ball  games,  boat 
races,  or  any  public  meetings  or  gatherings. 
Missionaries  have  introduced  religious  services, 
and  during  the  last  year  or  two,  Japanese  have 
introduced  a theatre ; and  the  Independence  Club, 
started  under  the  auspices  of  European  trained 
natives,  about  six  or  seven  years  ago,  organized 


Chinese  Theatres 


91 


the  first  public  political  gatherings ; but  these 
proved  dangerous,  and  were  stopped.  Chinese 
play  actors  are  sometimes  employed  by  very 
wealthy  private  individuals,  and  their  exhibitions 
are  something  truly  wonderful.  They  do  not  talk, 
but  sing  their  parts,  in  a blood-curdling,  teeth- 
on-edge-setting  high  falsetto,  pretend  to  mount 
their  fiery  steeds  by  leaping  high  in  the  air,  and 
then  prancing  round  the  stage  on  imaginary 
barbs,  like  children  at  play,  cut  off  each  others’ 
heads  in  turn,  and  at  once  leap  up  again  in  an- 
other character.  This  goes  on  for  hours  and 
days.  Tompkins’  Amonni  was  once  invited  to 
the  Chinese  legation  to  see  one  of  these  displays, 
and  sat  from  two  till  six,  only  to  find  that  the 
first  part  of  one  play  was  not  half  finished,  and 
all  the  time  the  monotonous  wailing  Chinese 
music  (?)  was  going  on  with  praiseworthy  per- 
severance. She  made  her  adieus  and  left,  but 
heard  afterwards  that  the  play  kept  on  till 
twelve  that  night,  began  the  next  morning  and 
continued  all  that  day. 

The  actors,  she  concluded,  must  all  be  athletes 
of  no  common  order,  to  go  through  such  violent 
exercise,  such  a continuous  series  of  leaps, 
violent  deaths,  and  fearful  contests,  with  such  a 
trying  strain  of  throat  and  lung  power,  for  so 
many  hours  and  not  succumb.  It  is  certainly 
wearisome  beyond  description  to  a foreigner  to 
behold. 


92  Korean  Nursery  Life 

Dapple  Grey  was  one  of  Brown  Eyes’  birth- 
day presents,  though  at  that  time  it  was  not 
certain  whether  he  would  ever  be  able  to  ride 
his  little  servant.  About  thirty  thousand  cash 
were  paid  for  the  donkey,  though  all  together 
they  did  not  amount  to  quite  ten  of  your  gold 
dollars.  I hardly  believe  that  cash  will  ever  be 
spent  for  another  donkey,  in  Seoul,  at  least ; for 
now  since  foreigners  have  been  suggesting  so 
many  changes,  silver  money  and  nickels  have 
been  almost  entirely  substituted  for  cash,  in  the 
capital  at  any  rate,  and  it  is  very  nice  indeed  to 
be  able  to  carry  a little  change  about,  without 
hiring  a man  to  take  it  on  his  back  as  before. 
Not  much  use  were  dainty  little  American  purses 
in  those  days;  one  would  scarcely  hold  one 
cent’s  worth,  and  for  five  hundred  dollars  you 
would  need  a train  of  ponies.  But  Dapple  Grey 
was  worth  his  salt  and  his  cash,  too,  and  when 
Brown  Eyes  grew  well  enough,  they  two  went 
dowm  to  the  river  Han  four  miles  from  their  city 
home,  for  now  the  authorities  had  decreed  it  to 
be  sate  to  leave  the  legation  and  the  guards. 
Brown  Eyes  lived  there  in  an  odd  little  native 
house  with  his  father  and  mother  for  several 
weeks.  Dapple  Grey  stood  outside  and  brayed 
so  hard  and  kicked  up  his  little  heels  so  much, 
that  none  of  the  Korean  neighbours  would  take 
him  to  board ; so  a little  shed  had  to  be  fixed  up 
by  the  house  where  his  master  was,  and  quite 


Tompkins’  Playmates  93 

often  at  night  he  would  give  a friendly  call  at 
the  door  to  let  them  know  he  was  there  and  wide 
awake.  It  wasn’t  at  all  necessary  to  sleep  at 
night  because  he  could  easily  take  a nap  any 
time  while  jogging  along  with  Brown  Eyes. 

The  village  boys  all  thought  the  little  Ameri- 
can great  fun.  They  never  saw  a child  dressed 
so  differently  from  themselves  before,  or  one 
with  such  a delicate  fair  skin.  They  were  much 
pleased  to  find  he  knew  a few  words  of  their 
language,  and  would  run  after  him  in  troops, 
asking  over  and  over  how  old  he  was  (though 
they  had  been  told  repeatedly)  just  to  make  him 
talk. 

Little  doubt  American  boys  would  have  just 
as  much  curiosity  about  one  of  these  Korean 
boys  if  he  were  suddenly  to  appear  on  the 
streets  in  one  of  their  villages,  and  it  is  to  be 
feared  that  they  might  not  be  as  considerate  in 
satisfying  their  curiosity  as  these  heathen  boys 
were.  Every  one  of  them  wore  his  hair  parted 
in  the  middle,  and  braided  in  a long  pigtail, 
which  hung  down  his  back.  At  holiday  times 
these  braids  are  tied  with  fine  new  ribbands, 
which  are  made  for  the  purpose,  just  the  right 
length,  and  covered  with  bright  gilt  Chinese 
characters,  meaning  long  life,  happiness,  riches, 
good  luck,  etc.  They  wore  little  jackets  of 
muslin  or  grass  cloth,  called  “ chogeries.” 
Among  the  well-to-do,  these  are  often  made 


94  Korean  Nursery  Life 

of  silk  and  very  brightly  coloured,  preferably 
red,  but  often  green  or  yellow,  while  for  very 
little  folks  the  sleeves  are  made  of  strips  of 
every  bright  colour  there  is,  and  all  so  neatly 
pieced,  that  they  look  as  though  they  were 
woven  that  way.  In  very  cold  weather  the 
jackets  are  padded  with  cotton  wool,  nice  and 
warm,  and  usually  there  is,  besides,  a touramachy 
or  padded  coat  of  gorgeous  red.  Sometimes  I 
wonder  if  these  little  gay  jackets  are  not  de- 
scendants of  Joseph’s  coat  of  many  colours.  At 
any  rate,  every  boy  is  almost  sure  to  have  one 
for  New  Year’s  day,  for  his  brother’s  or  sister’s 
weddings,  and  such  state  occasions. 

The  padgies  or  long,  full  baggy  trousers,  are 
also  padded  for  winter.  They  are  white,  shiny 
and  glossy,  from  much  pounding — not  on  the 
boy — more  of  which  might  do  him  good,  but  on 
a smooth  stone  or  piece  of  hard  wood.  These 
trousers  are  fastened  in  with  neat  anklets  and 
tied  there  with  fancy  ribbons  for  special  occasions. 
Padded  w^hite  muslin  stockings  and  a pair  of 
straw  or  string  shoes  complete  the  costume. 

But  these  country  boys  whom  Brown  Eyes 
knew,  wore,  almost  up  to  Christmas,  only  two 
garments ; a thin  grass  cloth  jacket,  a pair  of 
very  coarse  trousers  of  the  same  material,  and 
straw  shoes. 

They  were  funny,  merry,  hardy  little  fellows, 
with  faces  and  bodies  tanned  dark  brown  by 


95 


Korean  Boys’  Work 

constant  exposure.  Most  of  them  had  to  work 
all  the  time,  though  like  all  boys,  and  especially 
those  in  the  East,  they  managed  to  take  things 
fairly  easy,  and  to  squeeze  in  a sufficient  mod- 
icum of  rest  and  fun.  Some  drove  the  little  pack 
ponies,  with  their  loads  of  wood,  vegetables, 
manure,  etc.,  to  market,  riding  back,  sitting  side- 
ways on  the  uncomfortable  pack  saddles,  one  boy 
often  managing  two  or  even  three  of  these  can- 
tankerous, biting,  kicking,  fighting,  balking  little 
beasts. 

Sometimes  with  their  handy  “ nat,”  a kind  of 
sickle,  they  may  be  seen  clearing  all  the  road- 
sides, for  far  and  near,  of  every  weed,  twig  and 
bit  of  dried  grass,  or  brush  for  winter  fires. 
Sometimes  they  are  busy  for  days  watching  the 
crops  of  rice  and  millet,  driving  off  the  maraud- 
ing birds,  with  threatening  arms  and  loud  out- 
cries. Many  are  the  devices  to  which  people 
resort  to  keep  off  these  thieves.  Little  booths 
are  built  on  hillocks,  and  points  of  vantage, 
whence,  sheltered  from  the  sun  they  can  watch 
and  dart  forth  to  the  attack.  Regular  spider- 
webs of  long  strings  stretched  in  all  directions 
are  arranged,  to  entangle  their  wings,  and  pre- 
vent their  flight.  Scarecrows  are  frequently 
posted,  or  dead  birds  hung  in  full  view  as  an 
awful  warning  to  sinners. 

Some  of  the  boys  are  candy  sellers.  In  nut- 
ting season,  at  every  corner  are  little  nut  mer- 


96  Korean  Nursery  Lite 

chants  with  their  charcoal  hres  and  hot  chestnuts. 
Some  learn  early  to  carry  a little  jicky,  managing 
quite  heavy  loads ; many  work  in  the  fields, 
helping  sow,  weed  and  gather  in  the  crops  ; and 
some  carry  the  baby  around  all  day,  until  it  is 
nearly  big  enough  to  carry  the  next  one. 

They  have  their  games  and  fun,  too,  and  per- 
haps enjoy  them  more,  because  there  is  so  much 
work. 

They  will  toss  up  a shuttle-cock,  made  of  a 
piece  of  cash  wrapped  in  paper,  more  deftly, 
with  the  side  of  the  heel,  than  you  or  I would  do 
it  with  a bat,  and  they  will  keep  it  flying,  from 
one  to  the  other,  never  letting  it  touch  the  ground 
once,  for  twenty  minutes  at  least,  often  sending 
it  ten  or  fifteen  feet  high  in  the  air  and  never 
touching  it  with  their  hands.  They  fly  kites  in 
a wonderful  way  and  have  real  battles  in  the 
sky  ; one  boy  often  will  capture  several  in  an 
hour,  cutting  it  down  with  the  saw-like  cord  of 
his  own,  which  is  stiffened  with  a mixture  con- 
taining sand,  or  ground  glass,  held  together  by 
glue.  The  kite  strings  are  only  made  like  this 
for  a few  yards  at  the  kite  end.  They  have  a 
game  almost  exactly  like  “ French  and  English,” 
they  play  “ blind  man’s  buff,”  in  just  the  way 
Harry’s  American  cousins  do,  and  often  play 
soldier,  like  all  boys  the  world  over. 

As  for  the  girls,  they  wear  their  hair  just  like 
the  boys,  and  wear  a very  similar  “ chogerie,” 


What  the  Girls  Do 


97 


but  have  instead  of  trousers,  divided  skirts, 
covered  with  a very  wide-banded,  full  long  apron 
of  red,  blue  or  white,  which  really  takes  the  place 
of  a skirt.  Sometimes  they  wear  two  of  these, 
and  two  chogeries,  but  they  do  not  have  the  long 
overcoat.  Their  mothers  often  use  one,  putting 
it  over  their*head  and  drawing  it  close  round  the 
face,  the  sleeves  flapping  down  on  either  side, 
but  the  little  girls  wear  only  their  aprons  over 
their  heads  when  they  go  anywhere,  which  isn’t 
often. 

Most  of  them  are  very  much  shut  in  and  must 
learn  early  to  sew,  prepare  rice,  pound  the 
washed  clothes  smooth,  and  do  other  house- 
work, but  they  teeter,  swing,  play  “ cats-cradle,” 
tell  stories  of  tigers,  tock  gabies — brownies  or 
goblins — and  “ queeshins  ” (ghosts  and  spirits). 

They  have  a good  many  nursery  and  Mother 
Goose  stories.  See  now  if  you  can  recognize  an 
old  acquaintance  in  Korean  dress,  as  it  was  told 
to  Brown  Eyes  by  a native  woman. 

A good  little  saxie  who  lived  in  the  country 
started  out  one  day,  with  her  “see  amonni’s” 
(mother-in-law’s)  permission  to  pay  a visit  to  her 
mother  who  lived  three  miles  distant  across  the 
mountain.  She  wore  her  white  “ hankachima  ” 
or  apron  over  her  head  almost  covering  her  face, 
but  bright  eyes  and  cherry  lips  were  now  and 
then  “ to  be  beheld  things,”  in  spite  of  all  she 
could  do.  On  her  head  she  carried  a neatly  tied 


cj8  Korean  Nursery  Lite 

parcel  of  delicious,  freshly  made  “dock,”  as  a 
present  to  her  highly  honoured  mother. 

Before  she  had  gone  far,  barely  out  of  sight  of 
her  see  amonni’s  chip  (house),  forth  from  the 
mountains  came  a terrible  great  tiger.  With  as 
friendly  an  aspect,  as  it  was  possible  for  such  a 
ferocious  beast  to  assume,  he  approached  her, 
asking  in  growling  accents,  that  tried  to  be 
gentle  and  insinuating,  but  which  really  were 
blood  curdling  and  almost  made  her  poor  little 
heart  stop  beating  with  terror,  “ Where  are  you 
going,  pretty  little  one?”  Now  it  is  not  the 
custom  for  saxies  to  reply,  so  she  only  hung  her 
head  and  hurried  along.  But  the  tiger  stepped 
along  too,  and  nothing  discouraged,  ventured 
another  question. 

“ What  are  you  carrying  there  so  carefully,  my 
dear?”  “A  loaf  of  bread  for  my  dear  mother, 
your  Highness,”  whispered  the  girl,  for  this  time 
his  glance  was  so  fierce  and  his  tone  so  fearful, 
she  dared  not  keep  silence. 

“May  I go  with  you?”  said  the  tiger.  “Do 
according  to  your  own  mind,  your  Highness,” 
murmured  she,  well  knowing  that  was  what  he 
always  did.  So  they  walked  and  walked  for 
awhile,  when  the  tiger  said,  “My  stomach  is  very 
empty,  can  you  not  give  me  just  a little  of  that 
delicious  bread,  which  you  are  carrying  ? ” “ Alas, 
your  Highness,  it  is  for  my  mother,”  said  the  poor 
little  girl.  She  was  in  fact  only  fourteen  and  did 


99 


Korean  Red  Riding  Hood 

not  look  eleven.  Upon  this  the  tiger  looked  so 
terrible,  his  eyes  glared  so  hercely,  his  hot  breath 
like  a furnace  blast  fell  on  her  cheek,  and  his 
cruel  claws  looked  so  threatening  that  the  trem- 
bling girl  dared  no  longer  resist  supplications  en- 
forced with  such  arguments,  and  reluctantly  un- 
fastened her  package,  her  unwelcome  attendant 
looking  on  with  greedy  eyes,  and  gave  him  a 
third  part  of  the  beautiful  loaf  she  was  carrying 
to  her  mother. 

They  then  proceeded  amicably  nearly  a mile 
further,  but  his  tigerish  appetite  was  very  great, 
and  not  nearly  satisfied,  so  again  he  begged  for 
a portion  of  the  dock.  “ Igo  1 ^ my  Lord,  but  how 
can  I take  so  small  a portion  to  my  honoured 
mother,  who  is  a widow  and  seldom  has  dainties? 
Permit  me  to  refuse  your  Excellency  this  time.” 
But  the  tiger  was  not  to  be  quieted  or  refused. 
He  was  so  powerfully  insistent,  that  again  the 
bread  had  to  be  divided,  and  the  despondent 
saxie  with  sinking  heart,  saw  it  disappear  down 
the  awful  red  gulf,  that  served  for  his  throat. 
Still  he  seemed  only  half  satisfied,  and  long  ere 
they  had  completed  the  third  mile,  in  fact  ere 
they  came  to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  he  demanded 
and  obtained  the  third  portion,  so  that  now 
poor  Pock  Sungie^  had  nothing  to  offer  her 
mother  as  a proof  of  her  love.  Now  it  was  un- 
avoidable that,  in  reaching  up  and  taking  down 

• Exclamation  commonly  used. 


5 Peach. 


loo  Korean  Nursery  Life 

her  bundle,  untying,  retying  and  replacing  it  three 
distinct  times,  the  chima  ^ should  not  have  been 
displaced  and  disarranged  and  that  the  tiger 
should  not  have  seen  the  great  beauty  of  the 
little  saxie.  Her  well  oiled,  combed,  and  braided 
hair,  her  delicate  eyebrows,  smooth  skin,  shining 
almond  eyes,  above  all  her  dimples,  her  dainty 
little  hands,  and  pretty  rounded  arms  did  not  es- 
cape him,  and  now  that  the  bread  was  all  gone, 
and  his  appetite  rather  sharpened  than  in  the 
least  satisfied,  as  they  w'ould  soon  come  to  the 
brow  of  the  mountain  whence  they  would  descend 
and  be  seen  perhaps  by  those  in  the  valley  below, 
and  as  the  little  girl’s  home  was  now  not  far  off,  he 
decided  to  delay  no  longer,  so  with  a horrible 
growl  he  sprang  upon  poor  Peach  Blossom  and 
devoured  her  in  a moment.  He  then  put  her 
pretty  red  skirt  over  his  head,  and  trying  to  mince 
along  like  a young  girl  made  his  way  to  her 
mother’s  cottage.  If  any  one  had  seen  him  they 
would  never  have  supposed  it  was  poor  Pock 
Sungie,  with  those  terrible  hairy  legs  and  cruel 
claws,  striding,  and  slouching  crookedly  along 
below  the  girl’s  dress.  But  no  one  did  see  him. 
I’m  sorry  to  say.  He  reached  the  cottage  door, 
and  roared  “ mun  yere  chusio.”  “ Please  open 
the  door.”  “ Who  are  you?”  was  the  reply.  “ ’Tis 
I,  your  Pock  Sungie  come  with  a fine  loaf  of  fresh 
bread  to  see  my  dear  mother ; are  you  alone  ? ” said 

‘ Apron  over  her  head. 


Korean  Boys  at  School  loi 

the  tiger.  “Yes,  but  why  are  you  so  hoarse,  my 
daughter?”  “I  have  taken  cold  in  the  moun- 
tain,” said  the  tiger.  “ Well,  pull  the  string  and 
the  latch  will  fly  up ; hasten  in,  dear  child.”  So 
pulling  up  the  string,  he  entered,  pounced  on  the 
poor  mother  and  devoured  her  also.  But  while 
still  engaged  in  this  bloody  work,  some  wood- 
cutters who  heard  the  poor  woman’s  shrieks, 
rushed  in  and  put  an  end  to  this  greedy  old 
beast. 

Many  similar  stories  are  told  from  parent  to 
child,  and  some  are  written  in  the  people’s  books. 

Very  few  however  of  the  poor  can  read.  There 
are  native  private  schools  in  nearly  all  the  towns 
though,  where  Chinese  is  taught,  and  sometimes 
the  Korean  character.  All  are  seated  on  the 
floor,  together,  and  each  boy  shouts  aloud,  from 
his  own  book,  the  Korean  words  for  the  particu- 
lar set  of  Chinese  characters  he  is  learning. 

The  boys  begin  with  a few  simple  characters, 
and  later  take  up  combination  characters,  learn- 
ing certain  maxims  of  Confucius,  and  so  on,  until 
they  have  memorized  thousands. 

Rich  men’s  sons  often  study  from  eight  in  the 
morning,  till  five  or  six  at  night,  seven  days  in 
the  week  and  all  the  year  round,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  about  two  weeks  at  their  New  Year,  and 
on  a few  other  occasional  holidays.  They  do  not 
learn  to  speak  Chinese,  only  to  translate  the  writ- 
ten character,  which  is  used  as  well  in  Japan,  so 


102  Korean  Nursery  Life 

that  a Korean  student  can  make  his  wants  known 
in  either  of  these  countries  by  writing,  but  cannot 
understand  a word  he  hears. 

All  this  is  splendid  training  for  the  memory, 
but  the  reasoning  faculties  have  little  if  any  ex- 
ercise. It  is  considered  a liberal  education  for  a 
man  to  be  able  to  read  and  write  Chinese,  and  to 
have  read  the  maxims  of  Confucius.  There  are 
no  professions  which  are  considered  part  of  a 
man’s  education.  Doctoring  is  learned  as  a sort 
of  a trade,  and  there  are  neither  lawyers  nor 
clergymen.  In  fact  there  are  very  few  callings 
by  which  a gentleman  who  does  not  wish  to  learn 
a trade,  and  do  manual  labour  can  earn  a living. 

The  mission  schools  have  opened  up  western 
ideas  of  education,  and  follow  the  curriculum  of 
American  schools,  always,  however,  teaching  a 
portion  of  the  Bible  each  day,  and  giving  a fair 
amount  of  Chinese,  so  that  the  pupils  may  not 
be  at  a disadv^antage  among  their  own  country- 
men. The  first  schools  started  on  this  plan  in 
Korea  were  the  orphanage,  before  referred  to, 
the  “ Paji  Hakting”  and  Ewa  Haktung,  boys’ 
and  girls’  schools  under  the  Methodist  mission, 
a school  for  future  medical  students  at  the  gov- 
ernment hospital,  and  a government  school,  the 
two  latter  under  the  patronage  of  the  king. 

There  have  been  ever  since  that  time  one  or 
more  schools  for  boys  under  government  patron- 
age with  American,  English,  French  and  Russian 


103 


The  Hope  for  the  Girls 

teachers,  and  it  was  the  intention  of  the  queen  to 
establish  one  for  girls  also,  a purpose  frustrated 
by  her  death. 

Besides  the  schools  in  the  large  mission  sta- 
tions, under  the  direct  superintendence  of  foreign- 
ers, nearly  every  large  Christian  village  has  its 
large  Christian  day  school,  supported  partly  or 
entirely  by  the  natives,  and  in  many  cases  these 
are  so  excellent  and  thorough,  that  heathen 
neighbours  ask  the  privilege  of  sending  their 
children.  The  Bible,  catechism  and  western 
learning  are  taught  to  some  extent  in  all  these 
little  country  schools. 

The  natives,  too,  are  coming  more  and  more 
to  wish  to  educate  their  girls  as  well  as  the  boys. 

Most  boys,  even  the  poor  peasants’  and  farmers’ 
sons,  are  engaged  by  the  time  they  are  twelve  or 
fourteen  years  of  age.  Tompkins’  brother — but 
that  is  a different  story,  and  must  wait. 

At  that  age,  if  they  are  well  to  do  boys,  that  is 
if  their  father  has  sixty  or  seventy  dollars  a year, 
or  even  less,  their  hair  is  fastened  up  in  a top 
knot,  they  put  on  fine  new  clothes,  with  a long 
touramachy,  or  coat,  and  friends  are  invited  to  a 
feast,  and  congratulate  the  boy  on  assuming  the 
heavy  responsibilities  of  life. 

He  wears  a straw  hat,  much  the  shape  of  the 
black  ones,  till  he  is  actually  married.  The  tying 
up  of  the  hair  is  a very  solemn  ceremony,  when 
soothsayers  and  astrologers  are  again  called  in. 


104  Korean  Nursery  Life 

to  advise  and  oversee  the  performance.  It  is  the 
great  turning  point  in  his  life.  Very  poor  boys 
also  put  up  their  hair,  but  much  later,  and  with 
little  or  no  ceremony,  according  to  their  means, 
or  the  possibility  of  borrowing.  But  do  not  for 
one  moment  suppose  that  getting  married  or  en- 
gaged means  at  all  what  it  does  to  us.  O,  no, 
not  a bit,  nothing  at  all  like  that  in  Korea.  If 
you  are  a Korean  of  eleven  or  twelve,  very  likely 
your  mother  has  just  given  your  sister,  aged  fif- 
teen, in  marriage  to  another  family,  and  needs  a 
handy  little  maid  to  help  about  the  house  with 
sewing,  ironing,  rice  cooking,  dish  washing,  fire 
lighting,  weaving,  spinning,  etc.  So  she  calls  in 
a go-between  or  marriage  broker,  and  consults  her 
as  to  available  saxies,  as  young  girls  are  called. 
After  much  dickering  and  going  back  and  forth, 
the  arrangements  are  all  settled  between  the  two 
families,  probably  a specified  number  of  bags  of 
rice  are  paid  for  the  girl,  the  ceremony  is  per- 
formed, and  then  for  the  first  time  the  boy  sees 
his  bride. 


V 


A CHAPTER  OF  PRESENTS 

There  is  a good  deal  to  be  said  about  Korean 
weddings,  but  that  must  come  in  by  and  by,  and 
now  we  will  return  to  the  village  boys.  Most  of 
them  are  quite  small  for  their  age,  though  some- 
times a tall  strapping  fellow  is  seen.  Perhaps 
sleeping  on  hot  floors  and  eating  nothing  but  rice 
has  something  to  do  with  that. 

These  brown,  healthy  youngsters  were  de- 
lighted with  Brown  Eyes,  and  oh,  the  excitement 
and  “ yahdon  ” when  he  and  Dapple  Grey  went 
out  together.  All  the  boys  wanted  to  lead  the 
donkey,  but  those  who  could  not,  ran  shouting 
before  and  behind,  sometimes  rather  frightening 
the  little  boy  who  didn’t  like  being  so  closely  be- 
sieged by  such  a noisy  crowd,  although  accord- 
ing to  Korean  ideas,  the  more  retainers  a man 
has,  and  the  more  noise  they  make,  the  greater 
the  glory.  This  idea  is  purely  Korean  and  un- 
known elsewhere.  The  boys  all  thought  Brown 
Eyes  a rare  toy,  and  did  their  best  to  entertain 
him.  They  built  houses  in  the  sand,  skipped 
stones  along  the  water,  made  little  images  of 
clay,  whittled  toys  of  wood,  and  made  wonderful 
slings  of  long  pieces  of  stout  bark,  with  which 

105 


io6  A Chapter  of  Presents 

they  would  throw  three  or  four  stones  at  once  a 
very  long  distance. 

Brown  Eyes  was  delighted  with  the  sort  of 
camping  life  in  the  funny  little  house.  It  had 
only  two  rooms  separated  by  a kind  of  covered- 
in  piazza,  and  a little  shed  lean-to  kitchen.  One 
room  was  occupied  by  the  house  boy,  and  the 
two  chair  coolies,  who  brought  his  mother  there, 
and  one  was  used  by  his  father,  mother  and  him- 
self, for  sleeping,  dining  and  sitting-  room,  yes, 
drawing-room  and  study,  too.  It  was  a kind  of 
magic  apartment,  you  see,  and  you  had  only  to 
rub  a ring,  a lamp,  or  some  such  thing,  wish,  and 
presto,  change,  it  accommodated  itself  to  the  needs 
of  the  hour,  and  what  more  perfect  house  does  any- 
body want?  If  the  secret  could  only  be  learned. 
I’m  sure  we’d  all  have  one.  No  common  house 
will  provide  it ; on  the  contrary  some  rooms  seem 
made  to  look  at,  and  not  to  use  at  all.  You  are 
afraid  to  sit  here,  or  walk  there,  or  touch  that,  till 
you  feel  you  really  want  to  creep  out  as  quickly 
and  quietly  as  possible.  And  some  houses  aren’t 
even  good  to  look  at,  much  less  to  use.  But  with 
this  little  brownie  house  it  was  quite  different,  yes, 
indeed.  The  rooms  were  each  only  seven  feet 
wide  by  eleven  long,  and  about  seven  feet  high 
in  the  middle  where  the  roof  tree  was  hung,  but 
much  lower  at  the  sides ; so  low  that  Tompkins’ 
Amonni,  who  was  a little  woman,  could  easily 
reach  up  under  the  eaves,  where  a swallow’s  nest 


Brown  Eyes’  Cottage  107 

hung  right  over  the  maru,  and  fondle  the  baby 
birds  when  their  mother  had  gone  for  worms. 
By  the  way,  no  Korean  bad  boy  ever  interferes 
with  the  swallows’  nests  and  families.  They  are 
sacred,  though  the  little  sparrows  are  caught, 
dyed  gay  colours,  tied  to  long  strings,  and  teased 
and  killed.  But  there  I go  wandering  away 
again.  This  house  had  the  kang  floor,  of  which 
you  have  heard,  warmed  by  a fire  lit  right  under 
the  house.  A sure  way  to  set  it  all  burning  you 
would  say,  but  don’t  you  see  it  was  a fairy  house, 
and  nothing  came  to  pass  except  a warm  room 
and  dinner.  Did  you  clap  your  hands  and  wish 
for  a bedroom,  as  you  certainly  w^ould,  after  tear- 
ing about  all  day  in  the  bracing  fresh  air,  a slave 
of  the  ring  would  appear,  in  other  words  the 
house  boy,  with  a great  pile  of  clean  straw 
which  was  laid  on  the  warm  floor  in  thick  layers. 
On  it  were  spread  comforters  and  blankets,  the 
outer  shutter  windows  were  closed,  and  the  inner 
sliding  ones  were  drawn,  a tiny  wick  in  a saucer 
of  oil  on  a brass  lamp  stand  (the  one  you  rub,  for 
a charm)  was  lit,  and  behold  the  bedroom  ! Then 
in  the  morning,  after  they  had  dressed  and  w^anted 
a dining-room,  blankets,  etc.,  were  all  removed 
to  be  aired  and  disposed  of,  windows  were  opened 
wide  for  an  airing,  the  room  was  sw^ept  in  a jiffy, 
while  they  w^ent  out  for  a few  minutes  to  say 
good-morning  to  the  glorious  great  tree,  the 
placid  river  and  the  donkey.  When  they  re- 


lo8  A Chapter  of  Presents 

turned  they  found  their  trunk  had  been  trans- 
formed into  a table,  a delicious  breakfast  was 
served  and  there  was  a cozy  dining-room.  Break- 
fast had  been  cooked  over  a great  black  earthen 
bowl  full  of  glowing  charcoal,  and  often  consisted 
of  Korean  beans,  pheasants,  rice,  eggs  and  great 
luscious  persimmons.  Beautiful  pheasants,  such 
as  are  rarely  if  ever  seen  in  America,  were  this 
little  boy’s  daily  food,  bought  for  ten  cents  apiece 
from  the  Korean  hunter,  who  with  his  old-fash- 
ioned match-lock  gun,  went  out  every  day  and 
came  back  with  a bag  full.  Mother  pheasants 
with  their  brood  used  to  saunter  all  over  the 
Wons’  grounds,  and  roost  in  their  trees,  but  no 
one  dreamed  of  touching  them. 

How  happy  the  little  family  were  in  the  little 
house  ! It  had  only  two  rooms,  but  there  was  all 
outdoors,  with  the  blue  sky  bending  over  them, 
dear  earth  beneath,  and  the  river,  birds,  trees  and 
mountains  all  for  companions  and  friends.  Es- 
pecially they  delighted  in  realizing  that  it  was 
all  of  it  full  of  their  God  who  made  it,  and  that 
it  is  His  life  in  every  leaf,  every  whisper  of  the 
wind,  every  shining  star  or  sunbeam  making 
everything  rich  and  sweet  with  holy  import. 
How  dead  everything  would  be  without  Him ! 

The  Captain  had  to  be  away  in  the  city  part 
of  the  time,  but  when  he  was  with  them  he  was 
always  busy,  translating  mostly,  sometimes  build- 
ing an  ice  house  for  next  summer,  or  starting  a 


The  Comfort  of  Rest  109 

garden,  or  trimming  and  transplanting  trees. 
The  other  two  were  never  far  away,  the  little  one 
playing  in  the  sweet  warm  grass,  the  mother  gaz- 
ing, dreaming,  content,  so  blissfully  so,  that  she 
could  gladly  have  remained  there  forever,  never 
knowing  it  was  eternity,  so  fast  the  golden  sands 
slipped  by. 

There  is  great  comfort  for  a weary  woman,  to 
be  found  in  a house  without  a single  picture, 
ornament,  bit  of  delicate  drapery  or  even  a rug. 
Such  restfulness  there  is  in  bare  walls ! Such 
freedom  from  the  irritation  of  small  things,  con- 
stantly though  dumbly  demanding  attention,  care, 
approval  or  the  opposite,  pressing  as  it  were  their 
annoying  claims  upon  you. 

When  there  are  so  many  pictures,  ornaments, 
draperies,  etc.,  of  nature’s  incomparable  handi- 
work out  of  doors,  which  demand  no  thought  or 
care,  why  fill  our  houses  with  imitations? 

In  winter  when  one  is  shut  in,  and  in  a city  at 
that,  where  all  is  bleak,  bare  and  ugly  out  of 
doors,  then  little  articles  of  virhc,  souvenirs  of 
travel  or  of  friends  far  away,  or  precious  heir- 
looms, cluster  about  one  like  friends,  if  there  are 
not  too  many  at  once.  So  it  happened  that  Mrs 
Won  never  brought  any  of  those  things  to  their 
summer  home,  built  later  at  the  river.  However, 
we  left  the  family  at  breakfast  a long  while  ago, 
and  while  they  are  lingering  over  it,  I will  tell 
you  a little  more  about  their  Korean  neighbours. 


1 lO 


A Chapter  ot  Presents 


Do  not  suppose  that  they  live  as  the  VVons  did 
in  the  cottage.  For  instance,  at  night  the  village 
boys  and  poor  people  lie  right  down  on  the  coarse 
straw  mats  on  the  floor,  with  a wooden  block  for 
a pillow,  and  never  trouble  about  anything  else. 
In  cold  weather  they  cuddle  up  as  close  as  possi- 
ble to  each  other  on  the  warmest  part  of  the  floor, 
with  a well  padded  quilt  over  them.  Grand- 
father and  grandmother  have  the  warmest  place, 
if  they  are  a well-behaved  family,  and  the  chil- 
dren and  servants  on  the  outskirts,  e.xcept  the 
baby,  who  of  course  is  cuddled  close  to  grand- 
mother. In  summer  the  men  often  lie  out  on  the 
ground  in  front  of  the  house,  and  the  women  on 
the  maru  or  porch.  If  they  are  rich  they  may 
have  two  or  even  three  sleeping  rooms,  and  if 
they  are  very  great  people  indeed,  they  have 
several  little  one-roomed  huts  for  servants,  at  the 
gate,  along  the  wall,  and  a fine  sarang  for  the 
men  of  the  family  and  their  guests,  as  well  as 
one  for  male  servants.  If  they  are  very  poor, 
they  often  dig  a deep  hole  in  the  ground,  thatch 
it  with  straw,  and  in  the  coldest  weather,  work 
and  sleep  there,  close  to  the  warm  heart  of  old 
Mother  Earth.  Rich  Koreans  do  have  low  beds 
(used  chiefly  in  summer),  and  nice  padded  mat- 
tresses about  two  inches  thick,  covered  with  silk, 
or  even  with  felt  heavily  embroidered  with  storks, 
dragons,  trees  and  flowers. 

While  I am  telling  you  about  the  Koreans’ 


How  the  Natives  Eat  1 1 1 

houses  and  clothing,  I suppose  I might  as  well 
go  on  and  tell  about  their  food,  too.  It  is  served 
on  little  tables,  by  their  mothers,  sisters  or  wives, 
who  usually  stand  and  serve  while  the  “ men 
folks  ” eat.  Each  person  has  one  of  the  little  ta- 
bles, which  are  about  a foot  high  and  a foot  in 
diameter,  and  on  them  are  placed  the  bowl  of 
rice,  the  kimchi  or  “ saiier  kratct,"  also  a hot  sauce 
something  like  Worcestershire,  perhaps  a little 
prepared  seaweed,  a few  tiny  slices  of  cold  meat 
or  chicken,  or  dried  fish,  or  maybe  some  coarse 
vegetable.  Everything  except  the  rice  is  called 
the  pancheon.  If  the  family  is  rich,  there  may 
be  kuksu  or  vermicelli  soup,  eggs,  boiled  chest- 
nuts or  woody  Korean  pears.  But  very  few  even 
of  the  rich  have  such  luxuries  as  those  every  day. 
When  the  men  have  finished  or  are  well  serv^ed, 
the  women  help  themselves.  “ Dock  ” is  another 
delicacy,  variously  made,  which  the  foreigners 
have  translated  bread,  but  which  if  it  does  really 
belong  to  that  old  and  honoured  family,  is  a very 
distant  cousin,  and  a poor  relation  at  that. 

It  is  made  in  different  ways ; one  very  common 
one  is  rice  flower  and  oil,  pounded  together  un- 
til it  is  as  tough  as  India  rubber.  Sometimes  the 
flower  and  oil  are  steamed,  sometimes  eaten  raw, 
but  in  all  cases  it  is  disastrously  indigestible. 

It  is  bewildering  to  a foreigner  to  behold  na- 
tives eat  kuksu.  Lowering  the  head  in  as  close 
proximity  to  the  bowl  as  the  use  of  chop-sticks 


112 


A Chapter  of  Presents 

will  admit,  they  begin  lifting  long  masses  of  the 
vermicelli  to  their  rnouths.  With  agility  gained 
only  by  long  practice,  they  keep  the  uphill  stream 
flowing,  so  that  there  is  an  unbroken  stream  of 
vermicelli  from  vessel  to  mouth  till  the  last  rem- 
nant has  disappeared.  It  is  a work  of  art  in  one 
sense.  Kuksu  as  they  prepare  it  for  themselves 
is  quite  agreeable,  but  half  warm,  and  much 
sweetened,  as  some  of  them  think  right  to  serve 
it  to  foreigners,  it  is, — well, — never  mind. 

Game  is  very  plentiful  in  Korea  though  I am 
afraid  it  will  disappear  before  the  onward  march 
of  civilization  (?).  A couple  of  foreigners  went 
out  recently  and  after  two  or  three  days,  returned 
with  over  500  pounds  of  various  kinds  of  game 
birds,  which  you  and  I consider  cruel  slaughter, 
wicked  and  wasteful.  Besides  pheasants,  there 
are  snipe,  pidgeons,  wild  geese  and  ducks  in 
greatest  abundance,  and  even  wild  turkeys.  The 
latter,  however,  are  rather  scarce,  and  would  you 
believe  it,  there  are  no  tame  turkeys  at  all,  and 
no  cranberries ! Just  imagine  Thanksgiving 
without  turkeys  and  cranberries. 

Perhaps  it’s  because  the  poor  Koreans  don’t 
know  anything  about  Thanksgiving  in  our  sense 
of  the  word,  and  have  no  regular  Thanksgiving 
day,  though  sometimes  the  king  appoints  a day 
for  the  people  to  thank  their  Honourable  Heavens 
or  Hannanim  as  they  call  their  head  god,  for 
averting  a famine  or  sending  rain. 


Korean  Idea  of  Eating  1 13 

Perhaps  it  is  a good  lesson  to  Americans,  when 
they  have  to  go  without,  to  remind  them  that 
after  all.  Thanksgiving  is  not  expressed  mainly 
in  feasting  themselves,  or  even  others,  upon  tur- 
key, cranberries,  mince  and  pumpkin  pies,  etc., 
but  that  it  means  heartfelt  gratitude  and  worship 
of  God,  who  has  blessed  us. 

Brown  Eyes’  Amonni  used  to  say,  it  seemed  to 
her  to  savour  a good  deal  of  old  heathen  ideas 
and  customs,  and  a good  deal  too  much  after  the 
notions  of  our  brute  brothers,  that  most  of  our 
rejoicings  must  be  celebrated  with  enormous 
meals,  the  greater  the  joy  apparently,  the  greater 
the  gormandizing.  With  the  Koreans,  in  fact 
this  idea  of  eating  goes  into  every  custom  of  life. 
A deaf  man  has  “ eaten  his  ears,”  a thief,  or 
cheat,  ” eats  money,”  a man  who  is  ridiculed 
“ eats  yok,”  or  insult,  a hard  creditor  “ eats  wid- 
ows' houses,”  clothes  “ eat  starch,”  a repentant 
sinner  “ eats  a new  mind,”  and  I might  continue 
an  almost  endless  string  of  these  examples,  show- 
ing how  large  a place  in  their  poor  empty  shal- 
low lives  eating  takes  up.  But  for  us,  who  feed 
on  angels’  food,  who  have  bread  to  eat  that  they 
know  not  of,  Mrs.  Won  used  to  say,  the  more 
quietly  and  unostentatiously  we  performed  that 
necessary’-,  but  not  elevating  function,  which  Mr. 
Dickens  called  “ coaling  ” the  more  our  good  taste 
would  be  in  evidence. 

Notwithstanding  and  nevertheless,  for  the  sake 


114  ^ Chapter  of  Presents 

of  two  dear  old  arbiters,  Use  and  Wont,  because 
it  brought  back  dear  old  associations,  and  seemed 
to  put  them  in  touch  with  home  land  and  home 
folks,  the  Wons  tried  every  year  to  get  a wild 
turkey  and  some  canned  cranberries  for  Thanks- 
giving day. 

Korean  boys  do  not  have  as  many  or  as  long 
holidays  as  we.  To  begin  with  there  are  no  Sat- 
urdays or  Sundays  (think  of  that !),  but  worse  is 
to  come,  there  is  no  Thanksgivings  Fourth  of  July 
or  Christmas ; but  what  is  more  dreadful  still, 
they  know  nothing  of  what  these  holidays  stand 
for,  the  sweet,  glorious,  awful  facts  of  the  incarna- 
tion of  an  Almighty  Redeemer  and  Saviour  of 
the  whole  world  in  the  form  of  a little  child,  is 
something  they  never  even  heard  of ; so  how 
could  they  have  a merry  Christmas  if  they  tried  ? 

If  some  of  the  people  who  are  working  so  hard 
for  it,  could  only  take  our  Jesus  away,  all  the 
presents,  dinners  and  Christmas-trees  might  be 
flung  in  the  depths  of  the  sea,  we  wouldn’t  care 
for  them.  It  is  the  Christmas  church  bells  that 
make  all  the  rest  of  Christmas  doings  glad,  it  is 
the  Christ-child  on  top  of  the  Christmas-tree  that 
makes  the  candles  blaze  so,  and  the  trimmings 
glitter.  Do  you  know  a lady  once  dressed  a 
Christmas-tree  for  the  Korean  royal  family,  but 
it  wasn’t  at  all  a success  ? It  was  all  covered 
with  candles,  glass  balls  and  stars,  but,  it  seemed 
a foolish  thing,  there  in  the  palace,  it  was  plain 


BUDDHIST  PAGODA. 


BUDDHIST  MONKS, 


Korean  Holidays  1 1 5 

they  couldn’t  understand  its  use,  or  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  it.  As  for  the  Fourth  of  July,  they  do 
not  know  the  meaning  of  national  freedom  and 
independence,  but  as  they  wouldn’t  know  how  to 
use  it  without  Christ,  that  is  a small  thing  com- 
pared with  the  ignorance  of  Him,  and  in  fact  all 
Christians  know  that  nothing  is  worth  having 
without  Him,  as  our  dear  Whittier  has  said, 

“ Apart  from  Him  all  gain  is  loss,  all  labour  vainly  done, 

The  solemn  shadow  of  His  cross  is  better  than  the  sun.” 

But  in  the  place  of  our  holidays  they  have 
some  others.  There  is  New  Year’s,  the  longest 
and  chief  of  all.  The  birthday  of  Buddha,  about 
whom  very  few  of  them  know  anything  definite, 
the  birthdays  of  the  members  of  the  royal  family, 
their  own  and  their  parents’,  the  anniversary  of 
Kija’s  death,  and  the  spring  and  fall  decoration 
days. 

The  New  Year  festival  comes  at  the  time 
which  they  believe  to  be  the  opening  of  the 
spring,  and  it  is  to  celebrate  this  reawakening 
life  of  all  nature  that  the  great  holidays  of  China, 
Korea,  and  Japan  are  held.  As  they  are  regu- 
lated by  the  moon,  this  festival  comes  a little 
later  in  some  years,  and  a little  earlier  in  others, 
usually  about  the  middle  of  February.  At  that 
time  nearly  everybody  has  new  clothes,  all  dyed 
the  brightest  colours,  and  new  hair  and  ankle 
ribbons ; the  women  are  busy  for  weeks  before, 


ii6  A Chapter  of  Presents 

preparing  new  clothes  for  all  the  family,  or  if  not 
new,  at  least  newly-dyed  and  ironed.  Feasts  are 
in  order,  not  only  at  home,  but  as  one  goes  round 
calling  on  relatives  and  friends,  one  is  “ taichap 
haoed  ” (or  fed  on  dainties). 

Quantities  of  dock  and  other  festival  foods  are 
in  readiness.  One  of  these  is  a little,  a very 
little,  after  the  fashion  of  our  plum  pudding.  It 
is  filled  with  spices,  fruit  and  nuts,  but  with  so 
much  oil  that  to  us,  who  are  accustomed  to  suet 
or  butter  (which  of  course  is  not  grease),  it  is 
quite  offensive. 

At  that  time  presents  are  in  order,  of  all  sorts 
of  things,  new  rice  bowls,  shoes,  kites,  braces  of 
pheasants,  strings  of  eggs,  sticks  of  dried  per- 
simmons, bags  of  nuts,  boxes  of  Japanese  oranges. 
The  king  sends  the  high  officials  great  quantities 
of  food  and  often  used  to  favour  the  missionaries 
in  the  same  way. 

The  people  keep  holiday  at  that  time  any- 
where from  two  days  to  two  weeks,  according  to 
their  station  or  wealth. 

There  are  many  interesting  customs  in  con- 
nection with  these  New  Year’s  holidays,  but  I 
shall  leave  some  more  learned  writer  to  describe 
them  in  detail,  and  will  only  mention  one  or 
two. 

From  the  last  day  of  the  old  year  to  the  third 
or  fourth  of  the  new,  Koreans  call  on  their 
relatives  and  superiors,  and  the  heads  of  their 


New  Year’s  Customs 


117 


families.  In  the  country  the  calling  is  sometimes 
kept  up — even  to  the  tenth  day.  At  each  house, 
of  course,  they  are  offered  dainties,  and  some- 
times, even  a boy,  will  eat  during  an  afternoon, 
twenty-five  large  pieces  of  dock.  Before  break- 
fast, on  the  first  day  of  the  year,  sacrifices  are 
offered  to  dead  parents  and  ancestors,  and  their 
graves  are  visited  on  the  first  day,  if  possible,  or 
at  least  before  the  fifth. 

On  the  fifteenth  day,  many  burn  their  hair 
combings,  as  a sacrifice  to  the  god  of  colds  and 
influenza,  and  he  is  so  pleased  with  the  offering, 
or  displeased  with  the  odour,  that  he  keeps  away, 
it  is  said,  for  the  rest  of  the  year.  I’m  sure  I 
don’t  wonder,  do  you  ? 

Straw  babies  with  a few  cash  in  their  bodies, 
are  thrown  out  on  the  street  by  those  who  have 
received  the  ill-will  of  the  stars — in  the  hope  that 
others  less  superstitious  will  pick  up  their  troubles 
with  the  dolls  for  the  sake  of  the  cash  and  carry 
them  off.  Here  is  a faint  glimmering  of  the  idea 
of  vicarious  sacrifice. 

Others  make  small  moons  of  pieces  of  paper, 
which  they  put  on  the  house-top,  and  at  the  time 
of  the  full  moon  bow  and  prostrate  themselves 
before  it. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fifteenth,  poor  boys  go 
from  door  to  door  begging  money,  and  well-to-do 
households  have  small,  gaily  coloured  baskets  in 
which  a few  coins  are  placed,  and  these  are 


1 1 8 A Chapter  of  Presents 

handed  out,  and  with  them  the  very  generous 
donors  suppose  they  are  giving  away  their  dis- 
eases and  misfortunes  to  the  recipients. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  the  New  Year,  in  the  city 
of  Seoul,  it  is  the  custom  to  walk  over  all  the 
many  bridges  which  cross  the  great  open  sewers, 
in  order  to  prevent  corns  or  any  foot  disease 
during  the  year. 

On  the  shortest  day  in  the  year — in  many 
houses,  bean  gruel  is  eaten,  and  blood  is  sprinkled 
on  the  lintel  and  the  sides  of  the  house  door,  or 
in  the  absence  of  blood,  red  water  from  the  boil- 
ing beans  is  used  to  keep  away  the  spirits  who 
bring  death,  these  spirits  being  dull  fellows,  who 
are  easily  cheated  into  taking  coloured  bean 
water  for  blood. 

The  festival  of  Buddha’s  birthday  is  the  same 
as  that  which  is  kept  in  Japan  and  China,  of 
which  my  readers  need  no  information. 

The  anniversary  of  Kija’s  death  is  also  kept. 
Kija  was  a noted  historical  character,  the  founder 
of  Korea  as  a nation,  and  it  was  during  his 
reign  that  Korea’s  alphabet  was  created.  On 
this  day  Koreans  have  their  cold  rice  feast, 
which  is  eaten  and  prepared,  startlingly  like  the 
Jews’  feast  of  unleavened  bread. 

The  fifth  of  the  fifth  moon  is  the  summer 
festival,  known  in  China  as  the  dragon  boat 
feast,  and  as  it  is  not  largely  regarded  in  the 
country,  but  is  celebrated  mainly  in  the  capital 


Summer  Festival 


119 


where  people  have  come  in  contact  frequently 
with  Chinese,  I am  inclined  to  regard  it  as 
merely  borrowed. 

It  is  mainly  a woman’s  holiday  and  many  of 
them,  of  course,  lower  and  middle  class  women, 
of  safe  matronly  years,  take  their  rice  and  other 
food,  and  go  to  the  country  to  the  woods, 
picnicking  in  delightful  discomfort,  so  much  like 
Americans,  it  does  one’s  heart  good  to  see 
them. 

At  these  functions  like  the  Presbyterian  meet- 
ings, “ Of  women  there  seemed  an  innumerable 
throng,  but  the  men  I could  count  as  I passed 
along.”  Swings  are  erected  in  various  places, 
and  boys  and  girls  do  their  swinging  for  the  year 
on  that  and  the  following  day,  making  a charm- 
ing picture,  in  the  groves  on  the  hillsides,  with 
their  gaily  coloured  garments  as  though  great 
masses  of  exotic  flowers  had  suddenly  burst  into 
gorgeous  bloom  there. 

The  birthdays  of  the  royal  family  are  of  course 
always  public  holidays,  and  at  such  times,  it  is 
the  custom  of  their  majesties  to  send  fans, 
honey  water  or  presents  of  game,  eggs,  etc., 
according  to  season,  to  high  officials  and 
foreign  friends. 

In  every  family,  birthdays  are  regarded  much 
as  with  us,  some  more,  some  less,  and  feasts, 
invited  guests  and  presents  are  often  in  order. 

When  an  aged  couple  reach  the  sixtieth  anni- 


1 20 


A Chapter  of  Presents 

versary  of  their  marriage,  a great  feast  is  given, 
all  the  descendants  are  invited,  their  eldest  sons 
and  daughters  are  then  dressed  in  infants’  attire, 
and  everything  possible  is  done  in  a jocular  way 
to  recall  the  early  married  days.  It  is  a great 
occasion,  not  a whit  less  important  than  our 
golden  weddings. 

Koreans  have  two  cemetery  decoration  days. 
One  about  the  seventh  of  April,  or  one  hundred 
and  fifteen  days  after  the  shortest  day  of  the 
year,  the  other  in  the  fall  on  the  fifteenth  day  of 
the  eighth  Korean  moon  ; this  is  the  mid-autumn 
festival. 

On  these  occasions  it  is  the  custom  for  whole 
families  to  repair  to  the  cemeteries,  where  they 
look  to  the  good  order  of  the  grounds,  offer 
sacrifices,  decorate  the  graves  at  times  with 
flowers,  and  weep  over  the  dead. 

They,  however,  manage  to  combine  pleasure 
with  business  and  mourning,  take  a nice  lunch- 
eon, and  make  an  outing  out  of  it. 

These  are  the  only  occasions  I know  of,  when 
Korean  men  and  the  women  of  their  families  go 
anywhere  in  company  for  pleasure ; and  even 
here,  the  young  saxies  between  twelve  and 
twenty,  and  even  the  older  ladies  of  high 
families  do  not  participate,  or  even  leave  their 
apartments  except  in  tightly  closed  chairs. 

In  this  connection  I would  say  that  the 
Koreans  have  no  proper  cemeteries,  but  graves 


Korean  Cemeteries 


121 


are  scattered  everywhere  on  the  hillsides,  to 
their  great  disfigurement. 

Not  a fine  site,  not  a wooded  hillside  where 
pure  air  and  good  view  are  to  be  had  but  there 
are  to  be  found  graves,  and  it  is  a serious 
matter  indeed  to  move  one  of  them  under  the 
jealous  protection  of  the  spirits  of  the  dead, 
whose  main  business  seems  to  be  waiting  a 
chance  to  pour  the  vials  of  awful  spiritual  wrath 
on  their  unlucky  descendants,  for  the  slightest 
breach  of  the  reverence  and  duty  owed  to  them- 
selves. When  the  Captain  bought  the  place  at 
the  river — but  that  will  come  in  later — first  we 
must  finish  paying  our  respects  to  the  dead. 

Korean  funerals  are  held  at  night,  a not  un- 
fitting custom  it  seems  to  me,  in  the  solemn 
hush,  when  the  world  with  its  cold  curious  gaze, 
and  its  loud  business  and  pleasure  has  all  re- 
tired. Night  with  her  soothing  quiet  and 
sheltering  shadows  veils  the  mourner’s  grief, 
seems  to  sympathize,  in  fact,  and  undisturbed 
and  uncriticised,  the  broken-hearted  can  go  forth 
alone  with  his  dead.  With  the  Koreans  there 
may  be  another  reason.  They  believe  that 
sorrow  and  death  are  sent  as  a punishment  for 
some  crime  of  the  bereaved,  therefore  he  puts  on 
the  garb  of  shame,  wears  an  immense  wide- 
brimmed,  low-dipping  hat,  which  with  a small 
hand  screen,  entirely  hides  his  features,  puts  on 
garments  of  sackcloth  with  a rope  for  a girdle. 


122 


A Chapter  of  Presents 

and  is  not  seen  at  gatherings  of  friends  or  at  the 
palace.  When  a bereaved  son,  at  a distance 
from  home,  hears  of  his  father’s  death,  he  takes 
down  his  hair,  in  token  of  grief  and  shame,  and, 
dressed  in  sackcloth,  returns  in  a very  poorly 
made  chair  covered  with  white,  the  mourning 
colour,  to  his  home.  At  the  funeral,  the  dead 
is  placed  in  a box  covered  with  rich  drapery  if 
they  are  wealthy,  and  preceded  by  official 
lanterns  and  banners  which  relate  his  virtues. 
If  poor,  the  body  is  simply  wrapped  in  straw 
and  carried  on  a bier.  It  is  only  the  lowest  and 
most  needy  class  of  coolies  who  are  willing  to 
act  as  carriers  for  the  dead,  so  the  missionaries 
felt  all  the  more  the  love  of  the  native  Chris- 
tians, who  though  scholars  and  men  of  the 
upper  middle  classes,  on  several  occasions  in- 
sisted on  themselves  bearing  the  remains  of 
dead  missionaries  to  their  graves,  several  miles 
distant  from  Seoul.  There  are  only  two  of  the 
city  gates  through  which  native  funerals  pass, 
for  I forgot  to  say  that  no  burials  are  permitted 
within  the  walls,  nor  are  any  dead  bodies  per- 
mitted to  be  brought  in,  whether  of  foreigners 
or  natives.  Arrived  at  the  grave  site,  sacrifices 
and  prayers  are  offered,  often  food  and  various 
utensils  are  placed  in  the  grave,  and  the  remains 
are  covered  with  a round,  high  mound,  which 
stands  in  front  of  a semicircular  embankment, 
somewhat  higher  than  the  graves  at  the  back, 


A Difficult  Purchase 


123 


sloping  to  the  level  of  the  ground  in  front.  If  it 
can  be  afforded,  stone  images  of  sheep  and 
stone  lantern  stands  are  placed  on  either  side, 
and  the  whole  flanked  by  a stately  grove  of 
pine-trees,  which  in  a minor  key,  eternally 
murmur  the  melancholy  dirge  of  the  loved  and 
lost. 

And  now  for  the  grave  story ; it  is  not  ghastly, 
so  you  need  not  shudder. 

When  the  Captain  found  that  it  was  so  un- 
healthy in  the  city  during  the  hot  wet  summers, 
he  began  looking  about  for  a place  not  too  far 
away  from  his  sheep,  where  he  could  take  his 
family  during  the  trying  season,  and  after  much 
hunting  discovered  a bluff  on  the  river,  not  five 
miles  from  Seoul,  covered  with  a fine  grove  of 
trees,  and  open  to  healthful  winds  on  all  sides 
with  no  dangerous  rice-fields  near.  But  alas,  it 
had  two  very  important  looking  graves  on  it ! 
However  the  Captain  was  never  very  easily  dis- 
couraged, and  he  at  once,  in  a careful  way,  set 
about  making  inquiries.  It  soon  transpired  that 
the  graves  in  question  had  belonged  to  a Korean 
yangban,  or  gentleman  of  good  family,  who  did 
no  credit  to  his  forebears,  but  spent  his  time  in 
gambling  and  drinking.  Now  we  have  heard  of 
people  drinking  many  strange  things  ; Cleopatra 
drank  pearls,  and  the  French  revolutionists  drank 
blood,  but  I doubt  whether  it  was  ever  heard  be- 
fore of  a man  drinking  his  ancestors’  graves. 


124  A Chapter  of  Presents 

This  feat  was  successfully  accomplished  by  this 
profligate. 

The  natives  consider  a man  has  fallen  low  in- 
deed, and  is  degenerate  beyond  expression  who 
will  do  such  a thing ; he  might  starve  his  parents 
and  neglect  them,  but  to  sell  their  graves  is  a 
crime  of  infinitely  greater  degree. 

The  Korean,  to  whom  he  sold  them  in  order  to 
get  more  money  for  his  evil  practices,  was  a poor 
farmer,  who  dared  not  cut  the  trees,  or  farm  much 
of  the  land  on  account  of  the  spirits,  so  he  in  turn 
very  gladly  sold  it  to  the  Captain’s  agent. 

But  the  worthy  original  owner  found  out  that 
his  dear  and  honoured  graves  had  passed  into 
the  hands  of  a “ vile  and  sacrilegious  foreigner,” 
whose  conduct  he  could  not  guess  nor  control ; 
there  was  a yahdon,  and  the  mischief  to  pay. 
Of  course  he  couldn’t  touch  the  Captain,  directly, 
sheltered  under  the  mighty  folds  of  “ Old  Glory,” 
but  he  knew  quite  well  how  he  could  touch  him 
sharply,  indirectly,  and  at  once  through  his 
quansai"  or  influence,  and  so  threw  the  aged 
father  of  the  man  who  had  sold  the  land  into  jail, 
and  threatened  a beating  which  would  soon  have 
ended  his  life. 

The  Captain’s  first  intimation  of  this  was  the 
appearance  of  a melancholy  deputation  of  the 
chief  men  of  the  village,  where  the  farmer  lived, 
bringing  the  terrible  news  and  imploring  the 
Captain  to  give  back  the  deeds.  In  addition, 


I 


125 


The  Way  Out 

they  said  they  dared  not  return  home,  as  if  they 
failed  to  bring  the  papers,  they  would  all  be  cast 
into  jail. 

In  reply,  the  Captain  invited  them  all  to  pay 
him  a visit  for  a season  in  his  sarang  or  guest 
house,  and  taking  his  hat,  he  hurried  to  the 
American  Legation. 

Fortunately  for  him,  there  was  there  an  official 
who  was  willing  and  ready  to  stand  for  the  rights 
of  Americans  to  the  last,  and  although  realizing 
that  a struggle  about  graves  was  apt  to  be  a 
tough  and  long  one,  and  though  assured  by  Brit- 
ish officials  of  long  experience  in  China,  that  the 
man  would  be  beaten  in  the  end,  he  gallantly  en- 
tered the  lists,  and  the  first  act  was  of  course  to 
insist  to  Korean  officials,  on  the  immediate  re- 
lease of  the  old  man.  Poor  old  man,  he  was  ar- 
rested again  and  again,  and  as  often  released. 
Deputations  from  the  village  spent  days  and 
weeks  at  the  aforesaid  sarang. 

The  title  was  disputed,  and  proved  to  be  sounder 
than  a dollar  (I  don’t  mean  a silver  one),  but  a 
really,  truly,  honest,  good,  American,  gold  dollar. 

Then  it  was  represented  that  the  property  was 
too  near  the  grave  site  of  the  highest  Korean  of- 
ficial, and  that  the  residence  of  foreigners  so  near 
would  contaminate  the  sacred  ground.  When  it 
was  found  against  whom  he  was  pitted,  the  Cap- 
tain was  advised  and  implored  to  give  up.  He 
was  told  on  all  sides  that  he  was  in  a losing  bat- 


126  A Chapter  of  Presents 

tie,  and  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to  yield  with 
good  grace  while  he  could. 

Even  the  American  minister  told  him  that  no 
doubt  restrictions  of  one  sort  or  another  would 
probably  be  contrived  to  make  his  residence  there 
impossible,  even  if  he  succeeded  in  keeping  the 
deeds.  But  Mrs.  Won  had  not  nicknamed  her 
husband  “ Captain  ” for  nothing.  He  had  re- 
ceived from  his  British  forebears  a certain  bulldog 
tenacity  in  his  undertakings,  and  from  his  Amer- 
ican training,  he  had  lost  neither  that  nor  a gal- 
lant determination  to  defend  his  rights  to  the 
death,  no  more  to  be  moved  than  a rock. 

So  he  only  replied  that  if  his  excellency  would 
stand  by  him,  he  would  hold  the  property  till  the 
day  of  his  death,  if  he  never  put  one  piece  of 
timber  on  top  of  another. 

The  High  and  Mighty  Korean  then  offered  to 
exchange  with  the  Captain  for  some  other  site 
equally  good,  but  at  a safer  distance  from  his 
graves.  This  was  acceded  to,  but  it  was  soon 
evident  that  the  offer  was  not  made  in  good  faith, 
for  no  sites  that  were  practicable  were  offered. 

The  Captain  now  commenced  building  his 
house,  and  this  he  placed,  so  as  not  to  overlook 
the  valued  graves  of  the  profligate  who  had 
prized  them  so  highly  as  to  sell  them  for  drink, 
and  made  every  effort  to  regard  all  the  wishes 
and  restrictions  of  this  man,  who  hung  about  the 
place,  objecting  in  haughty  terms  to  nearly  every- 


The  Wons  Win  the  Case 


127 


thing  that  was  done.  He  was  to  be  permitted,  it 
will  be  remembered,  to  keep  them  there,  and  they 
were  treated  with  the  same  respect  which  the 
Wons,  who  were  decent  folk  in  the  main,  would 
have  shown  to  the  graves  of  any  one.  Children 
were  not  allowed  to  play  upon  them,  nor  any  in- 
dignities of  any  kind  allowed. 

But  the  now  very  solicitous  kinsman  would 
not  be  satisfied,  and  finally  sent  word  through 
some  high  official  that  he  would  never  allow  the 
man  who  had  sold  the  property  to  foreigners  to 
live  in  peace  in  his  home,  but  would  drive  him 
and  his  family  out  of  the  neighbourhood. 

This  was  the  last  straw,  so  the  Captain  went 
to  a Korean  judge  and  presented  the  case.  This 
man  found  that  the  graves  had  been  dug  on  a 
Keumsan,  or  sacred  land  prohibited  as  a grave 
site,  and  that,  being  unlawful  there,  they  must  be 
removed. 

There  was  no  resource  possible  to  the  enemy 
after  that.  The  Captain  paid  for  a new  site  and 
the  proper  removal  of  the  bodies,  and  thenceforth 
had  no  more  trouble,  but  this  fight  had  continued 
nearly  two  years ; and  while  the  three  or  four 
acres  had  cost  only  seventy-five  dollars  in  money, 
tissue,  nervous  and  muscular  had  been  expended 
to  many  times  that  value. 

Brown  Eyes  and  Dapple  Grey,  with  father  and 
mother,  stayed  at  the  river  until  they  were  all 
quite  better,  and  all  the  bad  effects  of  the  sum- 


128 


A Chapter  of  Presents 

mer  had  passed  off,  then  they  went  back  to  the 
city  again.  And  here  the  paths  of  Brown  Eyes 
and  his  donkey  had  to  part  forever.  For  some 
very  kind  Korean  friends  in  the  country,  not 
knowing  he  had  a Dapple  Grey  at  all,  sent  him 
another. 

Now  the  new  one  and  the  old,  for  some  reason, 
did  not  get  on  at  all  well ; probably  the  old 
friend  was  jealous,  and  besides  the  Captain 
couldn’t  well  afford  to  keep  two  such  animals, 
and  felt  it  would  be  a discourtesy  to  send  away 
the  one  which  had  been  presented  by  the  Kore- 
ans, and  disliked  to  hurt  their  feelings.  There- 
fore it  was  decreed  that  Dapple  Grey  should  be 
lent  to  a missionary  who  had  five  or  si.x  little 
ones  to  enjoy  him.  So  he  was  led  away  and 
soon  found  himself  in  a happy  family.  The  chil- 
dren petted  him  as  if  he  had  been  a dog,  and 
though  they  all  tried  to  ride  him  at  once,  he  never 
minded  in  the  least.  They  pulled  his  ears  and 
tail,  and  tumbled  about  under  his  feet ; but  he 
was  more  gentle  than  a kitten  and  seemed  to 
realize  that  he  must  be  careful  of  them. 

In  return  they  treated  him  to  the  best  they  had, 
and  made  him  welcome  wherever  they  went,  so 
much  so,  that  one  day  w'hen  their  mamma,  hear- 
ing more  noise  than  usual,  went  to  see  what  was 
the  matter,  she  found  the  donkey  in  the  bedroom, 
quite  as  much  at  home  apparently  as  in  the 
courtyard.  At  last,  however,  to  the  great  grief 


129 


Brown  Eyes’  Conscience 

of  everybody,  no  doubt  his  own  most  of  all,  he 
was  stolen  away,  and  there  was  an  end  of  his 
good  times. 

As  the  war  between  Japan  and  China  had 
been  going  on  all  this  while,  as  I have  said, 
Brown  Eyes  and  all  the  little  foreign  boys  in 
Korea  were  very  fond  of  playing  soldier,  and  full  of 
warlike  ideas.  They  knew  nothing  of  the  horrors 
of  war,  only  thinking  it  a fine  thing  to  stalk  about 
with  toy  guns  and  swords  and  talk  about  killing 
and  shooting. 

Brown  Eyes  said  he  was  going  on  his  donkey 
to  “ Fling  An  ” to  help  the  Yapanese  hight  the 
Chinese,  but  he  prayed  God  every  night  to 
^'please  take  care  of  the  king  and  queen  and  not 
let  them  be  killed.” 

The  war  play  was  very  absorbing,  and  it  was 
very  hard  to  stop  entirely  one  day  in  seven  ; but 
Brown  Eyes  had  very  carefully  been  taught  to 
keep  the  Sabbath,  though  often  he  found  it  a 
trial. 

One  Sunday,  his  mother,  who  was  sitting  in 
the  dining-room  reading,  heard  him  as  he  paced 
up  and  down  the  hall,  just  outside  the  closed 
doors,  talking  to  himself. 

“ Harry,”  the  little  voice  began,  in  tones  of 
solemn  rebuke,  “ Harry,  you  know  you  ought 
not  to  play  with  your  gun  on  Sunday.” 

In  stout  self-defense,  the  other  boy  who  lived 
behind  the  clear  brown  eyes,  replied,  “ But  I’m 


130  A Chapter  of  Presents 

not  playing  with  it  at  all,  I’m  only  holding  it 
while  I walk  up  and  down.” 

“ Harry  ” (severely  and  sadly),  “ you  know 
you  are  playing,  and  you  know  you  ought  not 
to  do  it.” 

The  voices  of  denial  and  self-defense  upon  this 
were  hushed,  and  the  small  prisoner  at  the  bar 
of  conscience  stood  proven  guilty  and  condemned 
to  put  away  the  gun. 

However,  next  best  to  playing  with  that 
dangerous  weapon,  was  the  joy  of  listening  to 
the  story  of  his  beloved  hero  David,  or  of  the 
magnificent  faith  and  moral  courage  of  Daniel  or 
Shadrach,  Meshach  and  Abednego. 

But  David  was  the  prime  favourite,  so  brave, 
so  beautiful,  so  young,  so  generous  and  victor- 
ious, for  who  does  not  love  youth,  beauty,  courage 
and  success. 

So  he  laid  aside  his  arms  almost  cheerfully,  to 
listen  to  Bible  stories,  and  to  pore  over  Bible 
pictures.  He  never  tired  of  the  stories,  and  did 
not  forget  them,  and  sometimes  brought  to  the 
surface  queer  little  thoughts,  which  showed  how 
this  reading  had  impressed  his  infant  mind. 

Once  as  he  trotted  around  after  his  Amonni 
while  she  did  her  housewifely  duties,  she  asked 
with  a loving  smile  that  told  him  she  was  only 
teasing,  why  he  followed  her  like  that  all  day  ? 
“ ’Cause  I want  to  be  where  you  are,  mamma  ; ” 
and  after  a few  minutes’  quiet,  “ Mamma,  wasn’t 


A Boyish  Faith  131 

that  a pretty  poetry  that  Ruth  said  to  her 
mamma,  ‘ IVhere  thou  goest  I zvilst  go,  and 
wherever  thy  diest  I wilst  die  ' f" 

During  the  winter  the  little  fellow  suffered 
much  with  severe  neuralgic  pains,  especially  at 
night.  After  rubbing  a long  time  with  witch 
hazel  and  ointment,  he  fell  asleep,  and  seemed 
much  better  next  morning. 

Forgetting  how  near  heaven  a child  lives, 
and  how  real  to  him  are  the  eternal  verities, 
his  mother  thoughtlessly  remarked,  “ I guess 
it  was  those  nice  hot  flannels  made  you  bet- 
ter.” 

” No,  mamma,  it  wasn’t  the  flannels.”  She 
saw  a serious  little  face  and  knew,  but  longing  to 
hear  all,  continued,  “ Then  it  was  Hammamelis  ? ” 
“ No,  mamma,  it  wasn’t  the  Hammamelis ; you 
put  that  on  a great  many  times  and  it  didn’t 
help  me,  it  was  Jesus  made  me  better,”  and  one 
day  seeing  her  weep  over  her  poor  little  patient 
sufferer,  he  said,  “ What  makes  you  cry,  mamma, 
why  don’t  you  go  and  tell  Jesus  and  ask  Him  to 
make  me  better  ? ” 

His  devotion  and  loyalty  were  unfailing.  One 
day,  having  been  refused  sugar  on  his  bread,  he 
remarked  poutingly,  ” I’m  mad.”  “ What  I mad 
at  mamma  ! ” said  she. 

Throwing  his  little  arm  round  her  neck  and 
patting  her  cheek  the  litde  fellow  whispered, 
“ I’m  mad  just  round  the  other  way,  because  I 


132  A Chapter  of  Presents 

haven’t  got  enough  mammas  like  you.  I wish 
you  were  twenty  mammas,  and  had  twenty  heads, 
so  you  could  be  kissing  me  all  the  time  with 
every  one  of  them.” 

Here  is  another  extract  rom  the  diary  of  this 
sentimental  mother : 

“ On  Friday  he  had  the  long  desired  oppor- 
tunity to  go  on  the  river  in  a boat  for  a sail  with 
some  friends. 

“ He  was  delighted  and  started  off  in  great 
glee,  but  came  all  the  way  back,  after  a few 
moments,  to  me  who,  afflicted  with  a severe 
headache,  could  not  go. 

“ Rushing  to  me  and  putting  his  little  arms 
round  my  neck  he  murmured,  ‘ I want  to  tell  you 
somesing,  mamma ; iss  I go  away  would  you  be 
lonely  ? ’ 

“ ‘ Well  a litde,  but  I want  you  to  go  and 
have  a good  time.’  ‘ Well,  mamma,  iss  you 
would  be  just  a small  bit  lonely,  I won’t  go.’ 
I had  to  urge  the  little  fellow  off  though  it 
was  his  chief  glory  to  ride  in  a boat  on  the 
water. 

“ Again Last  Sunday  I was  going  to  a 

native  meeting  and  was  trying  with  lame  hands 
to  gather  up  several  large  books.  Brown  Eyes 
saw,  and  running  to  the  rescue,  said,  ‘ No, 
mamma,  you  mustn’t  lift  those  books.  I’ll  take 
them,’  and  with  great  effort,  the  little  fellow 
clambered  down  the  steps  with  them,  almost 


The  Boy  Helps  133 

more  than  he  could  manage,  and  brought  them 
to  my  sedan  chair  for  me.” 

So  ran  the  course  of  the  true  love  of  Brown 
Eyes  and  his  Amonni. 


VI 


BROWN  EYES 

One  day  a very  high  Korean  lady  asked  his 
mamma  to  bring  him  to  her  palace,  for  the 
Korean  ladies  are  very  fond  of  children,  and  en- 
joy the  little  Americans  very  much. 

So  he  was  dressed  in  his  best  and  carried  with 
his  mother,  by  four  stout  coolies  in  a sedan 
chair  to  pay  this  visit. 

Though  only  a little  more  than  four  years  old 
at  this  time,  the  child  had  ridden  in  a great 
many  kinds  of  strange  vehicles  in  various 
countries. 

He  had  been  carried  in  Chinese  sedan  chairs 
on  the  tops  of  men’s  shoulders,  and  whisked 
along  at  a marvelous  rate  in  jinrickishas,  those 
funny  baby  carriages  which  everybody  uses  in 
Japan,  and  before  that,  in  the  no  less  odd  little 
garrys  in  Singapore. 

He  had  rattled  along  London  streets  in  cabs 
and  omnibuses,  and  in  a two  penny  tube  far 
under  the  same  city,  shot  through  American 
thoroughfares  in  electric  street  cars,  bowled 
along  quiet  country  roads  in  his  grandpapa’s 
easy  basket  carriage,  and  sped  over  thousands 
of  miles  of  iron  roads  in  palace  cars  and  in  those 

134 


Some  of  Brown  Eyes’  Rides  135 

little  boxes  called  carriages  on  English  roads, 
and  on  the  Continent,  and  years  later,  he  rode 
in  two  story  street  cars  in  Paris. 

He  even,  I am  ashamed  to  say,  rode  once  in  a 
wicked  automobile  at  a murderous  speed.  He 
bestrode  a donkey  in  Joppa,  and  was  carried  in 
a tall  Arab’s  arms  in  Jerusalem,  and  once  in 
Korea  he  rode  in  a jickay,  once  in  China  in  a 
schenza  or  mule  litter,  and  once  in  Vladivostok 
rattled  along  break-neck  in  a Russian  droschky, 
and  sped  on  a bicycle  when  he  grew  older  of  course. 

But  very  few  little  foreign  boys  have  ever 
ridden  in  the  sort  of  chair  in  which  Brown  Eyes 
rode  to  the  palace,  for  that  was  a queen’s  chair 
covered  with  velvet,  and  lined  with  silk  and  had 
been  used  by  her  Majesty  who  had  sent  it  as  a 
present  to  his  mamma. 

He  peeped  out  of  the  little  glass  windows,  and 
chattered  all  the  way,  as  they  wound  along  the 
narrow  muddy  streets,  filled  with  long  lines  of 
great  oxen  carrying  loads  of  fuel  to  the  city,  or 
little  tinkling  pack  ponies  ridden  by  noisy  un- 
kempt Korean  boys,  with  here  and  there  a candy 
merchant,  or  a fruit  peddlar,  a yangban  riding 
in  his  chair  or  his  donkey,  preceded  and  followed 
by  trains  of  hangers  on  making  a great  shouting 
to  people  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  this  great 
man.  There  were  plenty  of  loungers  staring 
about  with  nothing  to  do,  and  doing  it  to  per- 
fection. 


136  Brown  Eyes 

There  were  little  shops  in  plenty  driving  a 
brisk  business.  I think  the  brass  shops  pleased 
Brown  Eyes  most  of  all,  and  I am  sure  they 
would  delight  the  hearts  of  American  ladies, 
who  nowadays  seem  to  take  great  pleasure  in 
everything  that  is  brass  or  copper.  The  Korean 
brass  is  really  a sort  of  bell  metal  with  a fine 
ring,  the  art  of  making  which  is  confined  to  the 
natives.  These  shops  are  full  of  all  sorts  of 
shining  bowls  and  cups,  with  covers,  which 
serve  as  saucers,  too,  spoons,  chop-sticks, 
candlesticks,  lamp  stands, — such  unique  tall 
graceful  things — and  little  bells,  each  with  a 
quaint  looking  fish  hanging  from  it  with  a 
chain,  so  that  when  hung  from  the  roof  of  your 
house,  the  wind  will  set  the  fish  moving,  and 
the  bell  gently  tinkling.  There  is  a famous 
great  bell  in  the  centre  of  the  city  which  is  not 
rung  with  a clapper,  but  by  striking  it  with  a 
heavy  club,  when  it  gives  out  an  extremely 
sweet  low  sound,  which  at  the  same  time  must 
be  penetrating,  for  it  is  heard  all  over  the  city. 

When  the  gates  are  to  be  shut  at  night  or 
opened  in  the  morning  this  bell  rings. 

There  is  a sad  legend  that  when  it  was  cast  it 
would  not  give  the  right  ring  until  a little  child 
was  flung  into  the  liquid  metal. 

Its  last  plaintive  cry  Amonni,  Amonni,  is,  they 
say,  exactly  reproduced,  whenever  the  bell  is 
struck. 


GUTTER  SHOP,  SEOUL. 


137 


Visiting  a King 

Soon  Brown  Eyes  and  his  mamma  were 
:arried  under  great  stone  arched  gates,  and  past 
guards  who  presented  arms,  and  saluted  greatly 
o the  delight  of  the  little  one,  and  then  on  and 
)n  through  many  more  gates  and  bridges,  and 
ivinding  roads  past  more  soldiers  who  all  saluted 
IS  they  continued  passing  round  and  round, 
:hrough  one  wall  after  another. 

There  was  a fine  lotus  pond,  where  the  ice 
ivas  like  glass  in  winter,  but  where  the  lovely 
3ink  flowers  bloom  in  summer,  and  in  the  centre 
3f  the  pond  such  a lovely  little  summer-house, 
md  everywhere,  on  all  sides,  ever  and  ever  so 
nany  houses,  large  and  small.  One  feels  quite 
n a maze,  winding  in  and  out  among  them  all. 

At  last  the  chair  is  put  down  and  a Korean 
gentleman  lifts  Brown  Eyes  out  and  hands  him 
Dver  to  a lady,  who  has  orders  to  bring  him  in 
without  delay. 

This  palace  consisted  of  several  large,  one 
story  buildings,  each  with  several  small  rooms, 
the  floors  of  which  were  covered  with  the  best 
ind  thickest  oiled  paper,  which  shone  like 
tiighly  polished  wood.  The  rafters  and  beams 
supporting  them  were  of  splendid  great  logs  of 
liighly  polished  timber.  The  lamps,  fire  pots 
ind  other  brass  utensils  all  glittered  with  much 
rubbing.  On  the  floors  were  mats,  much  em- 
Droidered  cushions,  and  standing  against  the 
wall  were  quaint  and  elegant  cabinets,  some 


138  Brown  Eyes 

inlaid  with  pearl,  some  heavily  ornamented 
with  brass  hinges,  locks,  etc.  Here  and  there 
might  be  seen  a bit  of  foreign  furniture,  such  as 
a clock  or  a chair,  but  there  were  no  pictures, 
no  drapery,  no  bric-a-brac.  A few  large  tubs 
with  blossoming  plants  stood  in  one  of  the  outer 
rooms,  and  these  are  quite  common  in  the  homes 
of  all  the  Korean  nobility. 

The  details  of  this  visit  have  been  told  before. 
Harry  was  petted  and  feasted  far  more  than  was 
good  for  him,  and  proved  to  be  here,  as  often 
before,  a very  convenient  little  key  to  many 
hearts,  for  the  like  of  which  mission  boards 
should  be  duly  thankful.  On  their  return,  as 
they  jogged  through  all  the  labyrinthine  wind- 
ing ways,  while  grateful  for  the  kindness  shown 
them,  they  were  very  glad  indeed,  for  their  part, 
that  they  were  just  plain  Americans,  and  could 
live  quietly,  simply  and  cozily  in  their  own 
modest  home,  their  own  lives  free  to  come  and 
go,  without  always  being  in  the  glare  of  the 
world’s  great  stage,  the  target  for  thousands  of 
eyes  and  tongues,  too.  The  mountain  peaks 
are  lonely  as  well  as  cold  and  much  exposed ; 
there  is  much  slippery  walking,  bad  going, 
and  terrible  great  yawning  depths  of  horror  be- 
low. Not  many  would  care  to  build  their  homes 
on  the  peaks  of  this  world’s  greatness,  if  they 
realized  it. 

When  Brown  Eyes  reached  home  he  found 


J39 


Two  Magicians 

many  trays  and  bowls  of  goodies  had  arrived 
there  before  him.  He  knew  quite  well  he  could 
not  eat  them,  but  he  enjoyed  giving  them  to  his 
little  native  friends,  as  much  or  more  than  hav- 
ing them  himself. 

But  though  he  could  not  eat  many  dainties, 
you  may  be  sure  there  were  folks  who  did  their 
best  to  make  it  up  to  the  little  fellow,  and  to  see 
that  he  had  a happy  holiday  season.  First  and 
foremost,  there  were  the  grandparents  and 
aunts  and  uncles  in  far  off  America,  who  were 
not  so  far  off  after  all,  for  this  is  no  mistake  a 
fairy  world,  all  full  of  enchantments,  no  matter 
what  the  infidels  and  the  gradgrinds  and  all  the 
rest  of  them  say.  There  is  a magician  called 
Love,  who  with  one  stroke  of  his  wand  wipes  out 
time  and  space,  and  behold ! The  globe  which 
used  to  be  so  big,  becomes  quite  small. 

Then  there  is  another  almost  as  great  called 
Faith,  who  has  ordained  that  “ To  him  that  be- 
lieveth  all  things  are  possible,”  and  when  those 
two  join  hands,  America  is  only  just  round  the 
corner  from  Korea,  and  it’s  no  trick  at  all  to  send 
big  Christmas  boxes  over  ten  thousand  miles  of 
prairies  and  ocean.  The  cars,  the  steamers,  the 
shipping  agents,  great  burly  railroad  porters,  the 
sampans,  the  lighters,  and  last  of  all  the  great 
Korean  ox-carts  and  their  drivers  were  all  the 
slaves  of  love  and  faith.  They  work  with  a will 
for  these  masters,  even  when  they  themselves 


140 


Brown  Eyes 

don’t  know  it ; in  fact,  you  know,  through  these 
two  the  great  Ruler  keeps  the  world  itself  spin- 
ning right. 

So  the  big  packing  boxes  were  nearly  always 
on  hand  before  Christmas  eve  for  Brown  Eyes. 

Not  but  there  were  hitches  sometimes,  for 
there  are  evil  powers,  too,  that  occasionally 
made  the  boxes  late,  or  sent  them  astray,  but 
Love  made  it  all  up,  for  then  he  had  two  good 
times,  one  the  really,  truly,  dear  Christmas,  and 
one  with  the  presents  that  came  all  perfumed 
with  Christmas  messages,  good  wishes,  and  the 
very  atmosphere  of  American  Christmas  even  in 
the  wrappers  and  the  labels. 

Why  it  was  allowed  that  one  child’s  Christmas 
box  came  quite  empty,  after  having  been  robbed 
by  sacrilegious  hands,  and  one  came  with  pack- 
ages for  everybody  in  the  community  except  the 
one  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  I’m  sure  I don’t 
know.  There  are  a few  things  none  of  us  know 
or  understand,  no  matter  how  wise  we  may  pre- 
tend to  be.  There  is  no  use  trying  to  explain, 
we  just  don’t  know,  and  the  best  thing  for  us  to 
do  is  to  say  so  frankly. 

It  is  a comfort,  though,  whether  the  mystery 
be  a ravaged  Christmas  box  or  a world  appar- 
ently out  of  tune,  to  believe  that  there  is  One 
above  who  knows  it  all,  and  makes  it  all  work  for 
good,  the  best  and  highest  good,  of  those  who 
love  Him.  Still,  for  the  present,  it  is  not  joyous 


The  Christmas  Stockings  141 

but  very  grievous  to  have  a Christmas  box  go 
astray,  or  pass  along  a Jericho  road  to  Korea, 
and  I don’t  wish  to  talk  about  it  at  present,  but 
return  to  Brown  Eyes’  happy  Christmas. 

Well,  then,  the  evening  before,  the  box  with 
the  nails  all  drawn  but  not  a cover  lifted  by  any- 
body, no  not  for  the  world,  was  carried  into 
papa’s  study  and  placed  on  a big  sheet  near  the 
fireplace.  Not  a soul  in  the  house  would  have 
peeped  for  any  consideration,  and  oh,  what  de- 
licious mystery  enshrined  that  rough  looking  old 
box,  what  might  it  not  contain  ! 

I have  often  thought  that  Santa  Claus  was 
a very  honest  and  considerate  old  fellow,  but 
being  the  true  gentleman  he  is,  he  would  of 
course  never  think  of  prying,  and  besides  being 
so  busy,  he  wouldn’t  have  time.  And  how  hur- 
ried and  busy  he  is  now  he  has  begun  making 
a trip  around  the  world  every  holiday  sea- 
son 1 Brown  Eyes’  stocking  was  rather  small 
the  first  few  Christmases,  so  mamma’s  was  usu- 
ally hung  there.  The  study  chimney  was  gener- 
ally chosen,  probably  because  it  wasn’t  far  from 
the  bedroom,  and  partly  because  it  was  such  a 
fine  big  one,  and  easier  for  Santa  to  come  down 
with  a large  pack,  and  for  some  reason  he  always 
brought  a very  large  pack  to  Brown  Eyes.  Per- 
haps he  had  found  out  how  patiently  he  always 
did  without  cakes  and  sweetmeats,  and  wanted 
to  show  his  appreciation,  too,  of  such  a good 


142 


Brown  Eyes 

child.  Well,  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  quite 
a good  deal  earlier  than  was  well  for  them,  the 
family  woke  up.  It  was  the  dearest  object  on 
earth  to  each  of  these  three,  to  say  “ Merry 
Christmas  ” first  to  the  other  two.  Brown  Eyes 
was  usually  the  winner  in  this  contest. 

Then  the  Captain  got  into  his  woollen  kimono 
in  short  order  and  fairly  ran  (don’t  tell,  for  he 
wouldn’t  like  it  to  be  known  that  he  was  so  un- 
dignified) into  the  study  and  lit  the  fire,  which 
had  been  laid  hours  before  with  a grand  old  back 
log,  which  was  soon  blazing,  roaring  and  crack- 
ling, “ Merry  Christmas  ” over  and  over,  to  be 
sure  to  be  the  first  with  Brown  Eyes. 

In  the  meantime  Brown  Eyes  and  Amonni  had 
been  getting  on  their  kimonos  and  slippers,  too, 
and  it  didn’t  take  long,  either,  and  were  right  on 
the  spot.  And  first  of  all  the  stocking ! There 
it  hung,  all  delightful  humps  and  tuberosities. 
You  could  see  from  the  outside,  here  a square 
package — there  a long  one — above  that  some- 
thing round,  while  out  at  the  top  stuck  whips, 
guns,  swords,  trumpets  or  canes. 

Everything  had  to  be  shown  to  father  and 
mother  and  talked  over  and  admired  by  them. 

And  then  the  box ! Who  can  begin  to  de- 
scribe the  joys  of  the  box,  new  clothes,  new 
toys,  new  books,  all  round.  Loving  messages 
sweetening  them  all.  “ For  Harry  with  Aunty 
H’s  love  and  Merry  Christmas,”  “ for  Harry  with 


143 


Opening  the  Box 

Uncle  J’s  love  and  Merry  Christmas,”  and  so  on 
all  round  the  family,  till  the  people  were  nearly 
waist  deep  in  wrapping  papers,  presents  piled 
on  all  the  chairs  and  tables  in  distracting  con- 
fusion, breakfast  on  and  nobody  ready  for  it,  or 
any  appetite,  and  notes  and  packages  begin- 
ning to  arrive  from  the  other  foreigners  to  be 
answered — oh,  dear — how  was  anybody  ever  to 
get  dressed.  And  then  as  soon  as  they  could 
scramble  into  their  garments  there  were  baskets 
and  boxes  and  bags  to  be  sent  all  round  the 
community.  Everything  had  been  wrapped  and 
tied  the  day  before,  and  each  package  had  a 
spray  of  mistletoe  or  holly. 

Even  before  the  packages  were  sent  off  a lot 
of  poor  people,  the  servants  and  all  the  members 
of  their  families  were  called  in  and  had  their 
Christmas  gifts.  As  Harry  was  an  only  child, 
his  parents  were  very  much  afraid  he  would 
grow  selfish,  so  they  tried  to  plan  things  so  he 
should  have  his  pleasures  in  common  with  others, 
and  it  was  not  the  least  happy  part  of  his  day, 
helping  to  make  these  others  happy. 

They  always  had  their  Christmas  Church  serv- 
ice with  the  Korean  Christians,  Christmas  eve. 

The  little  church  was  gay  with  lanterns  and 
dressed  up  with  mistletoe  and  evergreen,  and 
gayest  of  all  with  the  bright  garments  of  the 
little  children  and  young  saxies,  for  at  least  on 
that  occasion,  nearly  all  the  saxies,  so  jealously 


1 44  Brown  Eyes 

guarded  during  the  rest  of  the  year,  are  allowed 
to  come  to  church.  How  brilliant  the  assembly 
looked,  all  reds,  yellows,  greens,  the  freshest 
and  brightest.  The  Christmas  carols  were  sung, 
Christmas  services  read,  the  dear  old  sweet  story 
of  the  Babe  and  the  Angels  and  the  Star,  the 
Christmas  prayer  of  joy  and  praise  offered,  then 
everybody  beamed  on  everybody  else,  and  every- 
body else  wished  everybody  a “ blessed  Christ- 
mas,” which  we  have  Carlyle’s  authority  for 
saying  is  better  than  a happy  or  merry  one,  and 
the  Koreans  went  off  in  little  parties  to  enjoy 
their  dear  dock  and  other  indigestibles  together, 
and  the  Wons,  to  help  Santa,  and  settle  their 
brains  for  a long  winter  nap.  Christmas  night, 
the  Wons  always  had  as  many  of  the  old  pioneer 
missionaries  as  they  could  arrange  for,  to  dinner 
at  their  house. 

These  old  cronies  who  had  gone  through  a 
good  many  experiences  together,  were  just  as 
much  at  home  with  each  other  as  brothers  and 
sisters,  and  usually  had  a jolly  time,  laughing  at 
each  others’  old  jokes,  interested  in  each  others’ 
old  stories,  and  arguing  over  each  others’  old 
points  of  difference.  Our  Mrs.  Won  asked  them 
to  come  prepared  to  tell  the  most  interesting 
and  exciting  incident  which  ever  happened  in 
his  or  her  life. 

So  when  dinner  was  over,  they  all  gathered 
around  the  fire,  and  such  a string  of  tales ! 


A Christmas  Party  145 

People  who  have  crossed  continents  and  oceans 
several  times,  and  lived  in  lands  like  Korea  have 
some  queer  experiences.  I wish  I could  tell  you 
all  those  stories  now,  but  perhaps  some  time  I 
may  if  you  are  good  and  listen  to  this 
well. 

A day  or  two  after  Christmas  there  was  always 
a Christmas-tree  and  party  for  all  the  foreign 
children.  That  was  an  institution  as  old  as  the 
house,  and  besides  what  little  boy  would  want  a 
tree  all  to  his  lone  self.  Who  ever  heard  of  a 
one  child  tree,  or  a selfish  tree,  that  was  any 
good,  and  so  all  the  little  foreigners  were  in- 
vited. Once  there  were  forty.  Mercy,  you 
couldn’t  hear  yourself  think ! Then  some  time 
during  the  holidays  the  Korean  Christians  in 
Pastor  Won’s  church  were  all  invited  in  for  an 
evening’s  fun,  and  on  New  Year’s  day,  every- 
body, foreigners  and  natives,  came  to  call. 

That  was  rather  a trying  function,  for  some  of 
the  natives  who  came,  didn’t  know  foreign  cus- 
toms, and  threw  orange  skins,  etc.,  on  the  floors, 
and  some  of  the  high  men  who  came  couldn’t  be 
received  in  the  same  room  with  the  low  men, 
and  some  of  the  natives  stayed  too  long,  when 
so  many  were  waiting  to  be  seen,  and  some 
wouldn’t  talk,  and  Mrs.  Won’s  brains  were  in  a 
bad  way  with  the  cudgelling  they  received  to 
make  them  evolve  subjects  of  conversation,  so 
that  when  the  day  was  over  there  wasn’t  much 


146  Brown  Eyes 

left  of  her,  especially  as  there  never  had  been 
very  much  to  begin  with. 

But  perhaps  you  will  think  from  all  this  that 
the  life  of  a missionary  is  a very  gay  one,  quite 
full  of  parties,  suppers  and  other  social  entertain- 
ments. But  if  I caused  any  such  impressions  by 
these  tales  of  Christmas  doings  I have  misrepre- 
sented matters  quite  considerably. 

No  matter  how  inspiring  the  main  object  of  the 
work  may  be,  or  how  devoted  and  enthusiastic 
the  missionary,  any  work  that  amounts  to  any- 
thing, means  a great  deal  of  wearisome  drudgery, 
and  takes  obedient  faithfulness,  from  moment  to 
moment — and  many,  many  moments  when  there 
is  no  applauding  crowd  looking  on,  nothing  in 
the  detail  itself  to  inspire  or  reward,  when  people 
have  nothing  to  support  them  but  God’s  Spirit, 
urging  obedience  and  faithfulness.  To  tell  of  all 
that  is  not  entertaining  and  you  would  never 
bother  to  read  it,  even  if  a publisher  could  be 
found  to  print  it.  One  day  just  like  another, 
mixing  medicines,  listening  to  revolting  stories 
of  people’s  pains  and  aches,  trying  to  be  sympa- 
thetic and  helpful,  teaching  stupid  children 
arithmetic  and  geography,  translating  English 
into  Korean  books,  jogging  along  weary  miles 
in  the  country,  sleeping  in  dirty  inns,  trying  to 
overcome  the  deadening  indifference  of  heathen- 
ism, struggling  to  be  patient  and  forbearing  with 
dishonest,  lazy  and  dirty  servants,  there  is  noth- 


147 


The  Daily  Grind 

ing  interesting  in  it  at  all,  yet  it  must  go  on,  and 
much  more  like  it,  day  in  and  day  out,  month 
after  month  and  year  after  year.  Just  the  com- 
mon every-day  work  that  anybody  with  a con- 
science does  anywhere.  Nothing  great  or  good 
or  noble  or  interesting  about  it.  They  couldn’t 
even  feel  they  were  great  or  heroic  or  in  any 
way  uncommon,  or  that  what  they  were  doing 
was  remarkable  in  results.  They  just  knew  for 
their  comfort,  and  it  was  all  that  sustained  them, 
that  they  were  where  God  had  sent  them,  trying 
with  more  or  less  faithfulness  to  obey  His  com- 
mands and  follow  His  guiding  hand,  and  with- 
out seeing  much,  left  results  to  Him,  and  always 
the  vision  of  the  coming  of  the  Kingdom  and  the 
King,  put  life  into  humdrum  detail. 

So  as  I said.  I’m  afraid  the  tale  of  the  daily 
doings  of  the  Wons  and  their  fellows  would  not 
make  at  all  an  interesting  book.  I am  trying  to 
cull  out  the  bright  bits  in  order  to  give  it  suffi- 
cient attraction  for  you. 

All  the  year  round  Pastor  Won  did  about  so 
much  literary  work  every  day,  and  that  means 
translating  Bible,  hymns,  tracts,  preparing  news- 
paper articles,  Sunday-school  articles,  etc.  Then 
he  did  about  so  much  personal  work  each  day, 
with  his  helpers,  writing  a letter  to  this  little 
group,  sending  some  wise  Christian  to  these, 
overseeing  colporteurs,  listening  to  reports  from 
distant  localities,  meeting  natives,  believers  and 


148  Brown  Eyes 

otherwise,  who  had  come  likely  miles  to  see  him, 
meeting  in  committees  with  other  missionaries, 
holding  training  classes  of  leaders  of  country 
work,  teaching  in  the  boys’  school,  preaching, 
exhorting,  guiding  in  the  native  church  in  Seoul, 
receiving  the  visits  of  high  native  gentlemen  and 
returning  them,  and  doing  ever  so  many  things 
besides,  from  six  in  the  morning,  often  till  long 
past  bedtime. 

The  Bible  translating  was  considered  one  of 
the  most  important  parts  of  Pastor  Won’s  work, 
and  that  went  right  on,  nearly  all  the  time. 
Perhaps  you  wonder  why  it  takes  so  long  ? 
Well,  look  in  on  them  and  see  what  it  is  like. 

First  of  all,  each  man  took  the  especial  part  he 
had  been  given  to  do,  and  worked  over  it  alone 
with  his  literary  helper.  He  read  the  original 
Hebrew  or  Greek,  very  carefully,  the  Revised 
Version  and  the  best  commentaries  in  order  to 
glean  the  exact  meaning  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He 
also  studied  the  Chinese  version,  the  Latin  and 
often  the  German,  French  and  Spanish,  in  order 
to  profit  by  the  views  of  the  translators  of  those 
copies,  and  having  arrived  at  what  seemed  the 
plain,  clear  intent  of  the  original,  his  next  task 
by  no  means  an  easy  one,  was  to  convey  it  to 
the  brain  of  the  Korean  literary  helper  on  whom 
he  must  depend,  to  express  it,  in  pure  and  idio- 
matic Korean.  But  as  most  of  these  ideas  are  en- 
tirely new  to  these  men,  it  often  took  hours. 


Bible  Translation 


149 


trying  by  symbols,  illustrations,  parallels,  to 
make  it  possible  for  them  to  grasp  and  appre- 
ciate them.  Then,  and  it  was  no  less  difficult, 
came  the  effort  to  find  words  to  express  these 
abstract  ideas. 

The  native  would  roll  off,  with  great  satisfac- 
tion, some  stately  and  scholarly  sentence,  full  of 
words  of  Chinese  derivation,  which  the  poor 
women  and  farmer  folks  could  no  more  under- 
stand than  so  much  English,  besides  it  lost  its 
finer  shades  of  meaning.  “ No,  that  won’t  do,” 
says  Mr.  Missionary ; “ it  must  be  simpler,  and 
you  haven’t  entirely  grasped  the  idea.”  The  na- 
tive is  obstinate  or  stupid,  or  both,  argues  about 
it,  cannot  express  it  differently,  he  says.  But  the 
missionary  is  determined ; he  does  not  let  it  go 
till  it  is  right ; so  they  struggle  on.  When  Mat- 
thew or  Romans  or  whatever  it  is,  is  finished, 
then  the  whole  committee  meet  and  go  over  that 
one  man’s  work,  for  one  man  alone  may  not  be 
trusted,  will  not  trust  himself,  to  put  a translation 
of  the  Bible  in  the  people’s  hands.  Now  there 
are  differences  of  judgment,  and  they  argue  and 
study  more  hours  still,  till  some  agreement  is 
reached,  and  a “ tentative  ” version  is  put  before 
the  natives.  That  means  they  do  not  consider  it 
fit  for  a permanent  place  in  the  use  of  the  Church, 
but  in  order  that  it  may  be  well  tried,  criticised, 
by  missionaries  and  Korean  Christians,  and  after 
several  years  of  trial  again  revised,  they  publish 


1 50  Brown  Eyes 

it  though  imperfect.  Sometimes  the  average  of 
translation  for  months  was  not  more  than  three 
verses  a day,  never  more  than  from  seven  to 
twenty  verses,  in  four  hours.  Only  the  strongest 
of  them,  without  great  mental  exhaustion  and 
strain  could  stand  more  than  four  hours  at  a 
stretch  of  this  work.  So  they  were  more  than 
ten  years  getting  out  a tentative  version  of  the 
New  Testament,  and  congratulated  themselves 
on  having  done  it  so  quickly.  But  all  this  was 
no  play  ; there  was  little  in  the  play  line  in  Korea 
for  the  missionaries.  The  Wons  and  some 
others  discovered,  through  sad  experience,  how- 
ever, that  nature  and  nerves  rebel  against  all 
work  and  no  play,  all  the  time,  so  they  kept  the 
holidays  with  vigour  and  mirth  quite  religiously  ; 
birthdays,  too  (Washington’s  of  course),  even  the 
wedding  anniversary,  and  Fourth  of  July.  When 
the  mail  arrived  that  was  an  event ; sometimes 
people,  Americans  or  foreigners  were  born  or 
died,  which  was  an  event,  or  a new  foreigner 
came,  or  once  in  a long  time  there  was  even  a 
wedding. 

Every  year  Pastor  Won  made  at  least  one 
long  trip  to  the  country  to  Christian  groups,  two 
or  three  hundred  miles  away  from  Seoul,  and 
then  there  were  other  shorter  visits  to  villages 
nearer. 

I am  sure  that  this  which  is  called  evangelistic 
work  was  what  he  enjoyed  most ; preaching  the 


SOUTH  GATE. 


The  Annual  Trip  151 

gospel  to  sinners,  guiding  and  instructing  the 
country  Christians,  examining  and  receiving  into 
the  fold  the  applicants  for  baptism,  training  the 
leaders  and  shepherding  the  flock. 

He  nearly  always  walked  on  these  trips.  The 
Korean  ponies  couldn’t  go  fast  enough  to  suit 
him,  and  he  was  too  impatient  to  like  the  tire- 
some little  jog-jog. 

Mamma  Won  went  in  a native  pokyo,  or 
carrying  chair,  and  so  did  Brown  Eyes  and  his 
Amah,  who  used  to  go  together  in  one  chair. 
She  had  to  go  to  cook  their  food  and  attend  to 
the  youngster  while  his  Amonni  was  talking  and 
singing  with  the  women. 

As  he  grew  older  he  rebelled  against  the  chair 
very  often,  and  soon  walked  several  miles  each 
day.  When  not  quite  seven,  he  walked  and 
played  along  the  road  ten  miles  in  a day,  without 
seeming  at  all  tired ; quite  happy  and  delighted 
to  be  there  away  off  in  the  wilds,  among  the 
mountains  and  woods  with  his  “ Dearests.” 
Some  of  the  country  they  travelled  over  was 
beautiful,  the  air  was  exhilarating,  the  atmos- 
phere positively  brilliant  and  they  were  all  a little 
of  the  Bohemian  cut,  and  loved  this  out-of-door 
life.  They  used  to  say  they  never  felt  so  near 
heaven  as  when  in  their  plainest,  roughest  garb, 
they  left  the  world,  even  the  very  small,  unim- 
posing, and  dull  world,  of  the  Korean  capital  be- 
hind, and  lived  for  weeks  with  the  simple-minded, 


152 


Brown  Eyes 

earnest,  sincere,  country  Christians,  nature  and 
nature’s  God.  They  saw  and  heard  Him  in  the 
faces  and  voices  of  His  dear  people,  and  they 
felt  Him  in  the  lonely  mountain  passes,  in  the 
solemn  woods,  the  blue  skies,  and  “ nearer  than 
breathing  and  thinking”  embracing  them  al- 
ways. 

As  for  the  Captain,  he  was  in  his  element, 
closeted  for  hours  with  his  leaders,  chatting  with 
the  children,  listening  to  all  the  questions  and 
difficulties  of  everybody ; none  could  come  too 
near  or  stay  too  long.  He  fairly  froze  to  the 
people,  and  they  to  him,  and  yet  that  is  not  quite 
the  figure  to  use,  for  there  was  never  much 
freezing  in  the  locality  of  the  Captain.  Brown 
Eyes,  or  I think  I shall  have  to  call  him  Harry 
now  he  is  growing  so,  looked  a funny  little  fellow 
in  his  overalls,  trotting  along  by  his  father’s  side 
which  was  never  very  far  from  his  mother’s  chair. 
There  were  goodies  in  that  chair  besides  mamma. 
There  were  sandwiches,  bits  of  simple  Korean 
candy,  dried  persimmons,  and  sometimes  choco- 
late. There  were  tracts,  too,  and  a hymn-book, 
and  when  the  chair  was  set  down  for  the  bearers 
to  rest,  and  a crowd  of  women  and  children  gath- 
ered, while  his  Amonni  was  singing  and  talking 
to  the  people,  he  would  often  take  some  tracts 
and  pass  them  shyly  around.  Often  the  people 
were  too  curious  to  listen  to  the  talking,  they 
wanted  to  comment  on  the  foreigners  and  their 


Music  Hath  Charms 


»53 


clothes,  but  they  were  never  too  curious  to  listen 
to  the  singing,  for  that  was  stranger  and  more 
interesting  than  anything. 

Think  of  it,  they  had  never  heard  a woman 
sing  a real  song  with  a sweet  tune. 

They  have  a few  little  songs,  with  just  a few 
tunes  (I  do  not  suppose  a half  dozen  in  the  whole 
country),  and  the  women  hardly  ever  sing  even 
these. 

As  the  party  passed  along,  the  Captain,  whose 
eyes  nothing  escaped,  always  spied  the  first 
spring  wild  flower,  or  the  last  bloom  of  depart- 
ing summer,  then  with  great  care  that  mamma 
Won  should  not  see,  he  would  pick  it  and  give 
it  to  Harry  to  present.  But  she  knew  well  where 
it  came  from,  and  that  flower  carried  a double 
share  of  perfume  and  glowed  with  a double  por- 
tion of  beauty. 

Mrs.  Won  loved  flowers,  and  when  they  came 
by  the  hand  of  her  little  son,  from  the  hand  of 
her  husband,  from  the  hand  of  the  Father,  it 
was,  well — indescribable. 

As  she  jogged  along  in  her  chair  it  spoke  a 
parable  after  this  fashion.  “ As  the  husband  is 
back  of  the  child’s  gift,  so  back  of  all  the  love, 
every  beauty,  every  blessing,  every  joy,  stands 
the  great  Beauty,  the  Love,  the  Joy  of  the  Uni- 
verse, the  Father,  the  first  Cause.” 

Speaking  of  country  roads,  perhaps  my  reader 
has  a vision  of  New  York  or  Wisconsin,  and  wide 


1 54  Brown  Eyes 

roadways  with  fences  of  Virginia,  rail  fashion  or 
barbed  wire. 

Nothing  of  that  sort  in  Korea,  where  wood  is, 
except  in  the  inland  northern  provinces,  very 
scarce,  and  barbed  wire  unknown.  For  miles 
upon  miles  no  fences  at  all  divide  the  fields  from 
each  other,  or  the  roads,  which  are,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  near  vicinity  to  large  towns,  mere  foot- 
paths, crossing  each  other  in  bewildering  fashion. 

You  are  directed  to  take  the  main  or  great  road ; 
you  hunt  in  vain  for  it,  and  learn  at  length  it  is 
only  the  great  road  because  it  is  the  main  road, 
and  only  the  main  road  because  it  leads  from  one 
large  centre  to  another.  Sometimes  it  leads  over 
paddy  fields,  being  barely  wide  enough  for  the 
traveller  with  great  circumspection  to  pick  his 
way  along,  for  it  is  slippery  with  clay  mud. 

When  Mrs.  Won’s  chair  coolies,  tired  with  a 
long  day’s  service,  slipped  and  stumbled  along, 
jumping  at  times  over  wide  intervening  ditches, 
when  everything  depended  on  jumping  together 
and  jumping  true,  she  would  have  much  pre- 
ferred to  walk,  if  she  could.  But  when  the  even- 
ing shades  had  fallen,  and  the  only  ray  shed  on 
their  path  was  that  of  a feeble  Korean  lantern 
which  was  like  the  ghost  of  a light  that  had  died 
of  anaemia  centuries  before,  the  situation  was 
really  past  a joke ; still  such  small  annoyances 
did  not  really  count,  and  these  outings  were 
better  than  play  to  the  whole  family. 


VII 


A TOUR 

Not  long  after  the  return  from  the  river  and 
the  passing  of  the  Christmas  holidays,  the  Won 
family  started  on  one  of  their  long  trips  to  Whang 
Hai  Do,  the  Yellow  Sea  Province,  where  lay  so 
large  a part  of  their  field  of  work.  There  weren’t 
any  trains,  or  as  I have  said,  any  roads  to  speak 
of  but  footpaths.  They  were  as  happy  as  chil- 
dren let  out  of  school.  They  were  expecting  to 
be  out  of  doors  travelling  all  day  long,  for  days 
and  days  in  the  finest  climate  in  the  world,  and 
in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  a fair  land, 
and  all  together,  and  they  were  going  among 
simple-hearted,  kindly,  humble  farmer  folk,  whom 
they  loved,  and  many  of  whom  loved  them.  That 
was  enough  to  make  any  family  happy,  but  the 
chief  reason  was  different,  and  it  was  more  than 
all  the  rest.  They  knew  they  were  going  to 
carry  a light  to  people  who  never  had  seen  or 
only  through  a glass  darkly,  and  they  were  on 
the  King’s  business,  the  thought  of  which  alone 
gives  dignity  and  joy. 

As  they  pushed  along,  they  laughed  and  chat- 
ted, passed  the  compliments  of  the  day  with  the 
people  they  met,  sometimes  stopping  to  try  an 

155 


A Tour 


156 

echo,  or  to  drink  from  a clear,  cold  spring,  or  to 
have  a little  friendly  talk  at  some  farmhouse. 
The  Captain  had  his  gun,  and  now  and  then 
shot  a pheasant  or  a pigeon  or  a wild  goose. 
Often  they  came  to  some  shallow  stream,  but 
the  coolies  unwrapped  their  bandaged  feet,  and 
splashed  indifferently  across.  Once  they  came 
to  a river,  unusually  wide  and  swollen  for  that 
time  of  year.  In  the  rainy  season  of  course  they 
take  down  the  bridges,  for  they  are  all  “ knock 
down”  you  know,  like  the  furniture  that  comes 
out  to  the  East,  and  have  the  same  sad  tendency 
to  knock  down  unbidden,  at  unauspicious  mo- 
ments, and  so  the  river  would,  carry  them  all 
away,  if  the  thrifty  builders  didn’t  remove  them. 
Like  nearly  all  of  its  kind,  the  bridge  in  question 
was  simply  a footway  of  one  or  two  planks,  laid 
on  very  slight  wooden  supports  and  covered 
with  sod.  It  extended  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  from  one  bank  to  the  other.  Mrs.  Won 
was  nervous  about  these  bridges,  or  anything 
that  looked  a little  uncertain,  and  though  rather 
lame,  she  insisted  upon  leaving  the  pokyo.  The 
Captain  warned  her  she  was  almost  sure  to  be 
dizzy  on  that  narrow  footway  with  nothing  to 
hold  by ; but  dizzy  or  no  she  dared  not  trust  the 
chair.  Dizzy  was  the  word,  where  the  bridge 
was  highest  and  narrowest,  and  the  river  swiftest 
and  noisiest,  but  by  not  looking  down,  and  cling- 
ing like  a leach  to  the  Captain,  she  had  managed 


A Dangerous  Bridge  157 

to  pass  safely  over  two-thirds  of  it  when  lo  ! right 
before  them,  the  whole  footpath  had  been  broken 
away,  the  boards  lying  loosely,  partly  in  the 
water,  partly  on  the  lower  end  of  the  rude  sup- 
ports. 

Now  indeed  the  Wons  were  glad  she  had  not 
remained  in  that  chair,  for  on  that  narrow  place, 
the  coolies  could  neither  turn,  nor  had  they  room 
to  set  the  chair  down  safely  on  the  bridge.  As 
it  was  the  Captain  managed  with  the  help  of 
loose  boards,  to  find  enough  foothold  to  clamber 
to  the  other  side,  and  reaching  a hand  to  her,  to 
help  his  fellow  traveller  safely  across.  As  for  the 
coolies,  the  empty  chair  being  quite  light,  they 
managed  dexterously,  somehow,  as  they  always 
do,  and  all  were  soon  safely  on  the  further  shore. 
The  ox-carts  usually  flounder  through  the  fords, 
no  one  knows  just  how.  I’m  sure  they  do  not 
themselves,  but  in  the  worst  floods,  they  do  not 
attempt  it ; while  chair  coolies  take  to  the 
bridges,  when  they  exist,  and  at  other  times 
there  are  usually  ferryboats  within  call  at  the 
main  points  of  travel.  The  ferrymen  are  a very 
interesting  and  entertaining  class  when  one  isn’t 
raking  one’s  larynx,  and  wearing  out  one’s  pa- 
tience, shouting  in  vain  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
river  for  them  to  come. 

Arrived  at  one  of  the  farm  villages  where 
there  weie  a company  of  believers,  the  whole 
town  came  out  to  meet  our  missionary  party. 


A Tour 


158 

and  were  lined  up  on  eitlier  side  of  the  road, 
staring  at  the  foreigners,  with  eyes  in  which  it 
was  easy  to  read  contempt,  dislike,  curiosity  and 
a polite  but  vain  attempt  to  conceal  amusement 
at  the  ridiculous  attire  and  general  appearance 
of  these  “wayinduli.” 

They,  the  Wons,  felt  themselves  anything  but 
an  admirable  spectacle,  weary,  dusty,  in  camping 
attire,  they  were  not  proud.  But  lo ! forth  before 
the  assembled  body  of  their  scoffing  neighbours, 
came  the  little  handful  of  Christians,  just  two 
families,  and  met  the  missionaries  with  as  joyous 
and  cordial  a welcome  as  though  they  had  been 
lords,  and  conducted  them  almost  with  reverence, 
certainly  with  devotion  and  respect  into  their 
humble  dwellings. 

It  would  not  ordinarily  have  been  an  easy 
thing  for  any  one  to  do,  thus  to  receive  and  wel- 
come the  ridiculous  foreigners,  and  at  the  same 
time  before  their  whole  world  reaffirm  themselves 
believers  in  the  strange  new  doctrines,  renegades 
to  the  faith  of  their  fathers,  and  to  the  spirits  of 
their  ancestors. 

“ Whosoever  therefore  shall  confess  Me  before 
men^  him  shall  I also  confess  befoi'e  My  Father 
who  is  in  heaven^''  were  the  words  that  floated 
through  Mrs.  Won’s  mind,  for  she  realized  that 
it  called  for  considerable  moral  courage,  and  firm 
devotion  to  the  cause,  to  enable  these  poor  peas- 
ants to  brave  public  sentiment.  A little  later 


Sufferings  of  a Christian  Bride  159 

they  learned  that  the  first  Christian  who  came  to 
the  village  was  a young  bride. 

Now  the  position  of  a bride  is  not  under  any 
circumstances  an  easy  one.  A very  young  girl, 
usually  a perfect  stranger  to  her  mother-in-law, 
as  well  as  her  husband  and  his  entire  family,  she 
is  at  the  beck  and  call  of  all,  and  general  maid 
of  all  work.  She  is  to  obey  without  reply,  she  is 
not  expected  to  speak  even  when  spoken  to,  ex- 
cept by  prompt  and  meek  acquiescence.  One 
of  her  duties  is  to  prepare  the  sacrifices  for  an- 
cestral worship,  and  to  join  in  the  devotions. 

How  then  is  a meek  and  frightened  young  girl 
to  preach  a strange  religion  to  her  superiors, 
how  is  she  to  avoid  labouring  at  ironing,  wash- 
ing, sewing,  etc.,  on  Sundays,  how  to  escape  the 
preparations  for  idolatrous  worship,  and  partici- 
pation in  these  forbidden  rites  ? 

And  yet  all  this  dared  this  one  little  saxie, 
alone  many  miles  from  friends  and  supporters, 
many  miles  from  a church  or  teachers,  in  a whole 
village  full  of  heathen  people. 

Her  surprised  and  enraged  family  protested, 
scolded  and  beat  her.  She  was  covered  with 
revilings,  reproaches  and  ridicule,  and  finally 
threatened  with  the  greatest  disgrace  that  can 
befall  a woman,  that  of  being  flung  back  upon 
her  parents,  scorned,  deserted,  unfit  for  her  hus- 
band’s house. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  picture,  or  for  any  of 


i6o 


A Tour 


us  to  realize,  the  misery  of  that  young  girl’s  con- 
dition,  while  she  stood  alone  for  months,  witness- 
ing a good  confession. 

“The  noble  army  of  martyrs”  has  a grand  di- 
vision in  Korea,  and  many  a little  shrinking  girl 
will  be  found  written  in  its  books.  One  whom  I 
know  was  indeed  cast  out  and  is  now  dying  of  a 
broken  heart  from  the  shame  and  sorrow,  be- 
cause she  steadily  refused  to  give  up  her  faith. 
But  here,  at  last,  instead  of  being  sent  away, 
her  husband  yielded  to  the  influence  of  her  life 
and  example,  they  two  stood  together,  and  ere 
long  the  father,  then  the  mother,  and  so  little  by 
little  the  whole  family  put  away  their  old  idols 
and  superstitions,  and  led  by  the  youngest, 
joined  in  the  worship  of  the  One  True 
God. 

Then,  little  by  little,  the  family  living  next  that 
one,  also,  came  to  believe,  and  these  were  the 
people  whom  the  Wons  came  to  encourage, 
teach  and  receive  into  the  visible  Church. 

When  the  people  came  to  be  baptized  this  was 
the  usual  way  they  were  questioned,  and  the 
way  some  replied. 

Q.  Do  you  love  Jesus? 

A.  He  is  beautiful  to  me. 

Q.  Have  you  anything  in  your  house  that 
you  worship?  (meaning  of  course  fetishes,  idols 
or  tablets). 

A.  Yes,  the  Lord  Jesus. 


A Converted  Prize-Fighter  i6i 

Q.  (To  a little  boy).  Are  you  sure  your  sins 
are  all  forgiven? 

A.  (Hesitating).  Ye-es,  only  just  a tiny  bit 
left  over. 

Q.  Where  is  Jesus  now? 

A.  In  His  Capital. 

Q.  What  has  become  of  all  your  past  sins? 

A.  Jesus  will  take  care  as  to  them. 

The  people  seemed  so  full  of  faith  and  simple 
heroism,  without  the  faintest  idea  that  they  were 
glorious,  that  there  were  many  the  hem  of  whose 
robes  Mrs.  Won  felt  she  was  not  fit  to  kiss. 

In  one  of  the  first  villages  visited,  the  chief 
man  of  the  place  had  formerly  been  a prize- 
fighter, and  one  evening  when  all  were  telling 
their  experiences  (for  they  love  to  get  together 
and  tell  what  God  has  done  for  them),  old  Mr. 
Yu,  who  now  with  his  entire  family,  even  his 
married  grandchildren,  has  been  a firm  believer 
for  several  years,  told  his  story. 

He  said  he  had  heard  reports  of  a new  religion 
which  foreigners  were  introducing,  but  had  paid 
little  attention,  supposing  it  was  only  accepted  by 
the  lowest  and  most  worthless  of  the  Koreans, 
but  one  evening  on  returning  to  his  home,  from 
a long  distance,  more  or  less  tipsy  as  usual,  he 
found  that  a highly  respected  and  well-to-do 
friend  of  his,  the  chief  man  of  another  village, 
had  through  the  entire  day  been  making  the 
rounds  of  his  township  from  house  to  house,  with 


l()2 


A Tour 


a jickey  load  of  Christian  books  on  his  back, 
which  he  and  his  ladylike  wife  had  been  per- 
suading all  the  neighbours  to  buy. 

This  was  astounding  news  ! First,  that  a man 
of  quality  should  condescend  to  carry  a jickey. 
Second,  that  he  should  go  peddling  Christian 
books  ! Third,  that  his  wife  should  leave  the 
privacy  of  her  home  and  accompany  him. 

He  was  dazed  and  confounded.  What  could 
it  mean?  He  began  to  feel  as  though  the  foun- 
dations of  all  his  old  ideas  and  prejudices  were 
shaking  under  him.  This  Christian  religion 
must  be  something  quite  different  from  what  he 
had  thought,  if  it  could  lead  a man  like  the  Hon. 
Mr.  Ko  to  give  up  his  pride,  and  go  forth  thus  to 
sell  books,  and  still  more,  could  it  lead  a woman 
of  Mrs.  Ko’s  standing,  to  give  up  her  conserva- 
tive ideas,  for  women  are  always  the  slowest  and 
last  to  give  up  old  customs  and  prejudices. 

There  was  another  peculiarity  about  Mr.  Ko’s 
conduct  which  both  annoyed  and  irritated  Mr. 
Yu.  He  had  left  no  books  at  his  own  house. 
How  was  this?  Had  he,  Yu,  sunk  so  low,  was 
he  considered  such  a hopeless  prizefighter, 
gambler  and  drunkard  that  he  was  not  fit  to  be 
taught  this  despised  religion  ? Had  they  con- 
sidered him  unworthy  even  to  be  offered  one  of 
these  books  ? 

He  raged  round  his  house  in  a half-drunken 
fury,  and  vowed  he  would  not  be  thus  ignored  ; 


Yu  and  His  Book  163 

he  too  would  have  one  of  these  books,  and  that 
too  as  soon  as  he  had  eaten  his  supper. 

Forth  then  he  went,  found  Mr,  Ko,  and  claimed 
his  right  to  a book,  reproaching  his  old  friend  for 
his  neglect. 

The  omission  was  soon  and  gladly  enough 
rectified,  and  now  Mr.  Yu  proceeded  to  “study 
the  doctrine.”  The  book  which  he  had  first 
bought  was  a simple  beginner’s  catechism,  which 
he  quickly  read  through  and  then  others  fol- 
lowed. He  was  soon  completely  convinced  in- 
tellectually, loudly  proclaiming  himself  a Chris- 
tian, though  he  had  experienced  no  change  of 
heart,  and  still  kept  on  drinking,  often  to  excess. 
About  this  time  one  of  the  butchers,  the  most 
despised  of  all  classes,  who  had  become  a Chris- 
tian long  ago,  called  upon  him,  hearing  of  his 
professions,  and  claimed  brotherhood.  “ This  is 
great,”  said  Mr.  Blank ; “ now  we  will  meet  and 
worship,  sometimes  at  your  place,  sometimes  at 
mine.”  “ Not  a bit  of  it,”  said  his  very  frigid 
brother,  who  had  no  mind  to  consort  with  low 
butchers,  even  if  they  were  Christians.  “ Not  at 
all,  sir ; please  keep  your  place ; you  may  worship 
in  your  own  house,  I in  mine ; we  will  have  no 
intercourse  with  butchers.” 

The  butcher  who  had  been  looking  about  him, 
however,  remarked,  “ That  pleases  me,  too,  for  I 
see  you  have  not  destroyed  your  objects  of 
worship  or  put  away  heathen  customs,  so  we 


164 


A Tour 


cannot  be  brothers,”  whereupon  he  took  his 
leave. 

Scorned  by  a butcher  ! To  be  scorned  by  one 
that  he  scorned  ! Things  were  certgiinly  coming 
to  a strange  pass.  And  then  through  his  tipsy 
mind  flashed  the  thought  that  he  had  not  really 
become  a Christian  in  anything  but  loud  and 
empty  professions.  No  wonder  this  low  man 
despised  him ; he  had  not  put  away  his  idols,  the 
first  thing  every  catechumen  and  beginner  in  the 
faith  always  does. 

This  man  never  did  anything  by  halves.  He 
had  gambled,  drank  and  fought  with  his  might, 
and  now,  with  the  added  heat  of  liquor  in  his 
great  throbbing  veins,  he  not  only  pulled  down 
the  bunch  of  tawdry  bits  supposed  to  be  the  resi- 
dence of  the  household  spirits  and  burned  it  up, 
but  in  spite  of  the  protests  of  his  alarmed  wife 
and  family  who  considered  him  demented,  he 
proceeded  to  ruthlessly  destroy  all  the  family 
ancestral  tablets,  containing  the  records  and 
genealogies  of  the  whole  clan  of  which  he  was 
the  chief. 

Wide-spread  was  the  consternation  and  fury. 
The  news  spread,  and  the  outraged  clansmen 
took  a vow  to  come  and  burn  and  pull  down  his 
house  over  his  sacrilegious  ears. 

He  was  now  resolved  to  make  a clean  sweep 
of  everything.  Nothing  should  be  left  that 
was  not  yielded,  and  so  he  determined  that 


Forced  Prayer  165 

his  whole  family  willy  nilly,  should  become  be- 
lievers. 

His  wife,  however,  had  a mind  of  her  own,  and 
would  not  be  forced  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
which  her  violent  husband  seemed  resolved  to 
take  by  force  ; she  was  shocked  and  horrified  by 
this  vandalism  and  destruction  of  all  the  old  ob- 
jects of  her  reverence  and  awe. 

She  recoiled  from  this  sudden  turning  to  new 
ideas  of  which  she  knew  nothing,  and  regarded 
it  as  a drunken  and  insane  freak  of  her  husband, 
who  had  sorely  tried  her  patience  for  many  a 
long  year,  but  never  as  sorely  as  now.  Korean 
women  are  long-suffering,  and  endure  much,  but 
they  are  also  obstinate  and  very  conservative,  and 
there  are  some  things  they  cannot  be  forced  into 
doing. 

So  now  when  her  lord  had  bade  her  “ be- 
lieve ! ” she  very  positively,  plainly,  concisely  and 
briefly  told  him  she  wouldn’t. 

She  had  never  defied  him  before,  and  this  was 
not  only  unbelievable,  but  unbearable.  “ Pray ! ” 
shouted  he  at  the  top  of  his  lungs,  but  not  one 
whit  budged  she. 

Something  must  be  done  and  at  once ; so 
gripping  her  by  the  back  of  the  neck  with  his 
mighty  fist,  he  forced  her  to  the  attitude  of  devo- 
tion, and  more  loudly  than  ever  reiterated 
“ Pray  ! ” 

The  obstinate  woman,  however,  w'ould  utter  no 


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A Tour 


word  of  prayer,  so  Yu  felt  himself  obliged  to  pray 
for  her. 

Few  and  brief  were  his  words,  uttered,  it  is  to 
be  feared,  in  no  spirit  of  true  prayer,  or  with  as  yet 
a mere  glimmering  of  knowledge  of  the  God  he 
was  ignorantly  worshipping,  not  knowing  what 
manner  of  spirit  he  was  of,  as  also  some  of  us 
who  suppose  ourselves  more  enlightened. 

“ O Lord  send  Thy  Holy  Spirit  and  convert 
this  wicked  wife  of  mine.  Amen,”  holding  her 
firmly  down  all  the  time  till  he  had  finished. 
Such  were  the  beginnings  of  this  strange  man’s 
religion ; but  gradually  the  light  dawned  upon 
his  own  soul,  his  eyes  were  opened  wide,  and  he 
learned  that  not  in  loud  professions,  in  keeping 
certain  laws,  or  in  mere  intellectual  acceptance  of 
truth,  did  the  essence  of  true  Christianity  consist, 
but  in  the  Spirit  of  the  Master,  of  which  these 
w^ere  no  more  than  some  of  the  outward  forms. 
He  began  to  see  that  love  was  more  than  whole 
burnt-offerings  and  sacrifies. 

Our  Friend,  our  Brother,  and  our  Lord 
What  may  Thy  service  be  ? 

Nor  name,  nor  form,  nor  ritual  word 
But  simply  following  Thee. 

We  bring  no  ghastly  holocaust 
We  pile  no  graven  stone 
He  serves  Thee  best  who  loveth  most 
His  brothers  and  Thy  own. 

Thy  litanies  sweet  offices  of  love  and  gratitude 
Thy  sacramental  liturgies 
The  joy  of  doing  good. 


Travelling  Accommodations  167 

So  when  the  spirit  of  the  Little  Child  had  en- 
tered Mr.  Yu’s  heart,  he  became  quite  a changed 
man,  and  meekly  went  over  to  the  neighbouring 
town  and  paid  a visit  to  his  humble  neighbour, 
the  butcher.  I don't  know  what  they  said,  but 
they  had  a happy  time  together,  and  it  was  then 
arranged  that  services  should  be  held  in  each  of 
their  homes  on  alternate  Sundays.  Of  course 
with  this  sort  of  Christianity  in  the  man’s  heart, 
his  wife  and  whole  family  now  became  truly  con- 
verted ; from  being  the  terror  of  the  whole  vicin- 
ity he  has  become  the  Christian  leader,  and  has 
for  years  been  respected  and  honoured  wherever 
he  is  known. 

In  most  of  the  little  communities  visited,  there 
were  only  the  poorest  and  humblest  little  straw- 
thatched  huts,  and  the  quarters  occupied  by  the 
missionaries  were  neither  spacious  nor  even  clean, 
quite  the  contrary  commonly. 

One  evening  having  arrived  at  such  a village, 
they  were  shown  into  a room  belonging  to  the 
church  which  was  more  than  usually  small. 
Mrs.  Won  looked  round  in  dismay.  Where 
could  even  two  camp  beds  be  stretched  ? It  was 
hardly  larger  than  a good  sized  pantry.  A door 
leading  into  an  adjoining  room  stood  partly 
open.  She  peeped  in.  It  was  larger,  sunny, 
clean  looking.  Why  could  they  not  go  in  there? 
This  was  the  question  she  asked  her  husband 
without  delay.  He  gave  some  evasive  answer, 


i68 


A Tour 


and  put  the  matter  away  as  past  consideration. 
But  Mrs.  Won  was  not  convinced,  as  a good 
wife  should  have  been,  being  one  of  those 
troublesome  persons  who  always  want  to  know 
the  reasons  of  things.  She  had  not  learned  that 
it  was  hers  not  to  reason  why. 


Hers  not  to  make  reply, 
Hers  but  to  do  and  die. 


You  see  the  Captain  was  to  a blameworthy  ex- 
tent, lax  in  the  discipline  of  his  family. 

So  his  wife  returned  again  to  the  attack  and 
was  again  put  off.  But  this  would  not  do ; why 
indeed  should  they  suffocate  in  that  little  oven  ? 
Thus  pressed,  the  Captain  had  nothing  for  it  but 
to  tell  the  truth,  the  w'hole  truth,  and  nothing  but 
the  truth.  In  the  coveted  room,  was  a coffin  con- 
taining the  remains  of  a woman  who  had  died  of 
typhus  fever  nearly  four  months  ago  ! 

Poor  Mrs.  Won  was  aghast.  She  would  open 
Bluebeard’s  closet  and  this  was  what  she  got. 

“ And  we  sleeping  in  the  next  room  ! ” was  her 
first  horrified  comment.  There  had  been  an 
epidemic  of  typhus  the  preceding  summer  in 
that  locality,  and  several  had  died.  Nearly 
every  house  in  the  little  Christian  community 
had  been  infected.  Of  course  nobody  ever 
dreams  of  such  a thing  as  disinfection,  or  w^ould 
know  how  to  accomplish  it  if  they  did  ; wells  are 


Keeping  the  Dead  169 

carelessly  dealt  with,  and  in  every  way  possible, 
every  law  of  hygiene  is  outraged. 

The  dead  are  frequently  kept  months  after 
death  before  burial,  especially  in  the  homes  of 
the  rich  and  great,  where  it  is  the  custom  to  con- 
sult the  soothsayers  as  to  the  auspicious  time 
and  place.  They  often  change  their  oracular 
minds,  and  postpone  from  time  to  time,  not  of 
course  with  a view  of  getting  more  fees,  far  from 
it,  that  is  only  incidental,  of  course.  Spirits,  it 
seems,  are  not  like  popes,  infallible,  and  often 
alter  their  instructions  repeatedly. 

This  was  the  case,  in  setting  the  day  and  ap- 
pointing the  locality  of  the  grave  of  Her  Majesty 
the  late  Queen,  and  after  she  had  at  length  been 
laid  to  rest,  and  quietly  reposed  some  two  or 
three  years,  in  the  place  selected  by  the  spiritual 
powers.  His  Majesty  was  informed  that  the  grave 
site  must  again  be  changed,  and  the  poor  Queen 
go  forth  in  further  quest  of  a resting-place. 

In  the  case  of  our  poor  farmer  country  Chris- 
tians and  their  typhus  fever  corpse,  there  were 
entirely  different  reasons  for  delay.  The  weather 
was  hot  and  very  wet,  the  rainy  season  being  on, 
the  casket  and  its  carriers  must  have  travelled 
far  in  a drenching  rain  ; and  so  after  embalming 
the  remains  and  sealing  the  casket  of  wood  as 
well  as  they  knew  how,  they  put  it  in  the  little 
church  to  wait  a proper  time  of  interment.  After 
the  rains  crops  must  be  gathered,  for  there  had 


A Tour 


170 

been  a terrible  two  years’  famine  in  all  that 
region  and  nothing  must  be  risked.  When  the 
harvests  were  all  gathered  in,  then  Death’s  har- 
vest should  be  laid  away  in  his  garner,  too. 

Speaking  of  crops  makes  me  think  of  another 
incident  which  occurred  at  this  place.  Pastor 
Won’s  stay  in  any  of  these  little  neighbourhoods 
was  sadly  brief,  as  there  were  many  waiting  their 
turn,  and  he  must  return  only  too  soon  at  a fixed 
date  to  Bible  translating  at  Seoul.  So  there  was 
only  one  night  for  the  little  village. 

Word  had  been  sent  before  that  all  applicants 
for  baptism  might  be  on  hand  when  he  came,  for 
only  one  night  could  he  be  with  them.  So  in  the 
afternoon  of  his  arrival  all  were  called  in,  one  at 
a time  and  examined. 

Directly  after  supper  a solemn  service  of  bap- 
tism and  partaking  of  the  sacred  feast,  the  Lord’s 
Supper,  Only  once  or  twice  a year,  at  the 
oftenest,  was  this  blessed  privilege  possible  to 
this  poor  flock,  and  highly  indeed  did  they  value 
it,  sacred  and  precious  the  occasion. 

Just  before  the  service  was  over,  an  elderly 
woman  came  in,  whom  all  welcomed  as  a sister 
believer.  Though  nothing  particular  regarding 
her  was  learned  by  the  Wons  that  night,  next 
morning  at  daybreak  the  pastor  saw  her  about 
to  start  back  home,  and  learned  she  had  come 
ten  miles,  after  her  field  work  was  done,  the  night 
before,  in  order  to  be  baptized,  and  arrived  too 


A Heroic  Woman  171 

late.  “ But  why  did  you  not  come  earlier?”  said 
he.  She  replied  that  she  was  in  charge  of  some 
fields  belonging  to  rich  people  from  a distance ; 
they  had  come  to  receive  their  crops,  and  she 
could  not  leave  till  it  was  too  dark  to  work  more, 
and  now  she  must  hasten  back  in  order  to  begin 
the  day’s  work  as  early  as  possible.  She  had 
been  a believer  for  over  three  years,  but  living 
so  far  from  the  other  Christian  groups,  and  the 
stopping  places  of  the  missionaries,  had  never 
been  able  to  reach  the  centre  where  one  was 
staying,  in  time  to  be  baptized,  or  partake  with 
her  brethren  of  the  blessed  feast. 

Never  mind,  dear  sister,  there  is  the  General 
Assembly  and  Church  of  the  first-born  to  which 
you  belong,  and  you  shall  sit  down  at  the  Mar- 
riage Supper  of  the  Lamb,  and  your  name  is 
written  in  the  book  that  Angels  keep,  and  He 
shall  give  you  a white  stone  with  your  new  name, 
and  the  Father  and  the  Son  shall  come  in  and 
sup  with  you  and  you  with  them,  and  though 
you  are  disappointed  and  feel  left  out  now,  there 
will  be  no  mistakes  and  no  leaving  out  there. 

Pastor  Won  would  have  baptized  her  then  and 
there,  could  she  have  waited,  but  it  was  already 
late,  she  must  hurry  away ; and  so  the  dear  soul 
is  still  waiting  outside  the  visible  though  a 
patient  member  of  the  invisible  Church. 

The  Korean  women  prize  highly  their  new 
names.  They  are  never  formally  named  as  the 


172 


A Tour 


men  are,  and  as  has  been  said  before,  are  only 
called  Somebody’s  mother  or  Somebody’s  wife, 
but  when  baptized  it  is  necessary  for  their  enroll- 
ment and,  to  prevent  mistakes,  that  each  shall  be 
named,  so  they  are  called  Mercy,  Faith,  Love, 
Patience,  etc.,  with  a Chinese  character  which 
agrees  with  their  husband’s  name.  It  is  amusing 
and  a little  pathetic  to  see  how  highly  they  cher- 
ish these  Christian  names,  the  first  they  ever  had. 

Harry,  although  such  a little  fellow,  took  a 
great  interest  already  in  the  Christians,  and  es- 
pecially in  one  elderly  man  who  had  tramped 
miles  over  the  country  preaching  the  gospel,  and 
was  one  of  the  most  useful  of  all  the  native 
leaders  and  helpers.  “ Mamma  will  not  know 
Mr.  Saw  when  we  get  to  heaven,”  said  he.  “She 
will  see  a gentlemanly  old  foreigner  come  in,  and 
never  guess  that  it  is  he.”  “Foreigner,”  of 
course  meaning  in  the  child’s  mind,  American, 
and  Mrs.  Won  began  to  suspect  that  she  too  had 
been  unconsciously  assuming  that  everybody  in 
heaven  would  be  Americans  or  Europeans,  and 
by  the  time  they  reached  there,  with  enlightened 
eyes,  no  doubt  Presbyterians,  her  own  beloved, 
honoured  sect,  the  best  of  them  all ; and  yet,  now 
she  seemed  to  hear  the  echo  of  a noble  rhyme, 

“ Our  little  systems  have  their  day, 

They  have  their  day  and  cease  to  be ; 

They  are  but  broken  lights  of  Thee, 

And  Thou,  oh.  Lord,  art  more  than  they,” 


The  Natives  Play  Halma  173 

and  again,  still  nobler  and  sweeter,  the  inspired 
words,  “ IVe  shall  be  like  Him,  when  He  shall 
appear,  for  we  shall  see  Him  as  He  w,”  and  she 
was  content. 

The  incidents  told  in  this  chapter  illustrate  the 
sort  of  experiences  the  Wons  usually  met  with 
in  their  country  travels.  Harry  took  his  school 
books  along,  his  camera,  his  paint-box  and  two 
or  three  games.  The  natives  went  quite  wild 
over  Halma,  made  themselves  boards  and  men, 
practiced  it  a few  days,  and  then  would  give 
Harry  ten  moves  in  advance  and  beat  him  quite 
out  of  sight,  though  he  was  no  mean  player. 
They  were  wonderfully  keen  in  the  game,  twenty 
questions,  too,  and  would  soon  locate  the  most 
insignificant  objects,  in  the  most  unheard-of 
places  with  unerring  accuracy.  He  taught  them 
some  of  his  outdoor  games,  too,  not  the  least 
appreciated  of  which,  was  leap-frog. 

He  learned  to  aim  fairly  with  his  bow  and 
arrow,  and  looked  forward  with  impatience  to 
the  time  when  he  should  shoulder  a shotgun  like- 
his  father,  and  help  supply  the  family  larder. 
They  had  a feeling  no  more  should  be  killed 
than  they  needed,  and  were  sure  the  hunting  was 
markedly  unsuccessful  except  on  these  occasions. 

We  cannot  follow  them  through  all  their  rounds 
on  this  trip,  but  let  it  suffice  to  say,  that  in  less 
than  six  weeks  they  found  their  way  back  to  the 
dear  home,  rather  shabby,  rather  hungry  for 


174 


A Tour 


home  food,  and  longing  for  orderly  home  ways, 
a little  tired,  but  fresh,  ruddy,  sunburned,  full  of 
stores  of  strength  laid  up  during  those  weeks  of 
gipsy  life,  and  full  of  new  enthusiasm  and  inspi- 
ration, enkindled  through  close  contact  with  the 
simple,  glowing  faith  of  the  country  Christians, 
and  the  long  hours  alone  with  God  as  they 
travelled  from  place  to  place,  and  they  thanked 
Him  that  He  had  cast  their  lines  in  such  pleas- 
ant places. 


VIII 


AT  THE  RIVER 

When  Harry  went  to  the  river  the  following 
July,  with  his  parents,  a summer  cottage  had 
been  built  on  the  hill  for  them,  above  the  little 
native  hut  they  enjoyed  so  much  before,  for 
although  that  was  very  nice  for  cold  fall  days 
and  nights,  it  was  rather  stuffy,  hot  and  un- 
healthy for  long  weeks  of  heat  and  rain. 

I would  like  to  show  you  that  place  at  the 
river  which  was  such  a refuge  to  the  Wons,  for 
many  summers,  and  not  to  them  only,  but  to 
others  who  fled  with  them  from  the  heat,  poison- 
ous vapours  and  diseases  of  the  capital  during 
two  or  three  very  trying  months  each  year.  The 
bluff  which  they  had  bought  rose  in  three  ter- 
races some  fifty  or  sixty  feet  above  the  surface 
of  the  river,  which  almost  encircled  its  base, 
curving  around  it  lovingly  crescent  wise. 

The  bank  was  crowned  on  its  topmost  level 
by  a grove  of  noble  pines,  oaks  and  chestnuts. 
Where  its  feet  touched  the  water,  were  beautiful 
white  sands  and  great  boulders  where  the  chil- 
dren loved  to  play,  for  from  four  o’clock  it  was 
in  the  shadow  of  the  hill  above  it,  and  the  cool 
evening  breeze  brought  its  first  whispers  and 

175 


At  the  River 


176 

kisses  here.  That  first  summer  not  much  had 
been  done,  but  if  you  could  see  it  now  ! Neither 
Pastor  Won  nor  his  wife  cared  much  for  artifi- 
cially stiff  grounds  or  gardens,  but  they  loved 
flowers,  and  here  was  plenty  of  room  for  any- 
thing. Little  by  little  the  house  grew,  a room 
added  here  or  a porch  there,  and  now  it  has 
wide  verandas  at  the  front  and  back  and  up-stairs, 
too. 

The  evening  breeze  comes  up  very  cool  from 
the  northwest,  so  at  one  of  its  north  corners, 
where  it  stands  cheek  by  jowl  with  a dear  old 
pine,  so  close  and  friendly,  that  they  had  to  cut 
off  a piece  of  one  of  the  rooms,  was  built  a cir- 
cular piazza,  right  round  the  tree,  extending 
twelve  feet  from  it  in  width,  so  that  the  house, 
as  it  were,  threw  a loving  arm  round  the  pine, 
making  it  an  inmate  of  the  household  and  mem- 
ber of  the  family.  So  there,  while  round  its 
trunk  the  children  play,  the  house  mother  sings 
and  all  the  busy  happy  home  life  hums  about,  it 
reaches  far  above  them  all,  and  with  arms  stretch- 
ing heavenward,  like  some  high  priestly  guard- 
ian, seems  to  be  forever  supplicating  heaven  for 
the  creatures  of  its  care,  murmuring  unceasing 
orisons,  and  bringing  from  above  sweet,  low 
messages  breathed  by  the  spirits  of  the  air. 

People  counselled  the  Wons  to  destroy  that 
tree.  “ It  will  pull  down  your  house,”  said  they. 
“ It  will  grow  larger  and  crowd  you  out.”  But 


The  Wons’  Favorite  View  177 

the  Wons  who  were  real  tree  lovers  said,  “ No, 
another  house  might  be  built,  but  not  another 
such  tree,  and  if  the  dear  old  friend  should  grow 
larger  in  girth  with  increasing  years,  and  need 
more  room  they  would  do  with  less  house.”  The 
tree  was  the  genius  of  the  place,  no  one  could 
spare  him,  so  there  he  remained  and  received  all 
the  family  confidences,  and  through  the  long 
winter  months  stood  faithfully  on  guard. 

Besides  the  tree  there  was  a vine  on  the  back 
piazza  too.  It  wreathed  round  the  pillars  and 
confidingly  threw  its  long  graceful  creepers  in- 
side, adorning  the  ceiling  with  its  cool,  green 
leaves.  There  was  a view  from  “the  deck,”  as 
they  called  it,  as  there  was  from  every  side  of  the 
house,  but  this  was  the  most  restful  of  all  I think. 
It  looked  over  the  back  garden  and  the  fair  fields 
in  the  river  basin,  to  the  beautiful  green  hills  on 
the  other  side  of  the  valley.  There  was  a peace- 
ful little  village  nestling  on  the  side  of  the  hill, 
and  just  a glimpse  of  the  river  and  the  masts  of 
some  of  the  junks  and  fishing  craft  lying  at 
anchor  there.  Winding  up  the  hill  was  a road, 
which  passed  betw’een  two  grotesque  old  pine- 
trees  and  then  mysteriously  disappeared.  You 
could  imagine  all  sorts  of  things  about  that  road. 
Mrs.  Won  used  to  think  it  was  very  like  the  one 
the  Lady  of  Shallott  saw  in  her  mirror.  Some- 
times a Korean  chair  came  jogging  along,  some- 
times a woman  with  a bowl  or  a bundle  of  clothes 


At  the  River 


178 

on  her  head,  sometimes  a jimkoon,  his  load  on 
his  back,  or  an  ox  and  his  driver,  or  a long  string 
of  pack  ponies,  with  their  saucy  little  riders. 
But  at  any  minute  there  might  come  a fairy 
prince,  or  anything  wonderful  and  unexpected 
from  between  those  uncommon  trees,  and  a road 
that  went  right  into  the  sky  like  that. 

Sometimes  when  you  half  closed  your  eyes, 
you  could  see  the  whilom  sleeping  beauty  lean- 
ing on  her  lover’s  arm. 


“ As  far  across  the  hills  they  went, 

To  that  new  world,  which  is  the  old. 

Across  the  hills  and  far  away 
Beyond  their  utmost  purple  rim 
And  deep  into  the  dying  day 
The  happy  princess  followed  him.” 


It  was  not  at  all  hard  to  see,  I assure  you,  and 
that  w'as  where  the  road  went,  right  across  the 
purple  rim,  deep  into  the  dying  day. 

But  best  of  all  it  was  sweet  to  fancy  it  led  right 
into  the  Golden  City,  the  gates  being  always 
flung  wide  at  eventide,  and  that  perhaps  some 
day,  the  blessed  Messenger  would  issue  thence, 
with  the  glory  of  the  sun,  the  calm  of  the  moon, 
and  the  tenderness  of  the  Lord,  to  take  one  by 
the  hand  ; and  quietly  passing  back  leaning  on 
His  arm,  one  would  enter  thus,  through  the 
gates  into  the  city,  and  so  be  forever  with  the 
Lord. 


179 


A Holy  Calm 

For  all  the  sunsets  were  visible  there  in  glory 
of  rose  bloom,  amber  and  gold,  and  when  they 
were  gone,  the  young  crescent  moon  would  hang 
for  a while,  in  the  sweet  pale  gloom,  smiling 
down  on  the  house,  the  tree  and  the  people,  who 
smiled  back,  and  had  large  charity  for  the  heathen 
who  once  worshipped  her.  The  Wons  used  to 
bring  their  steamer  chairs  out  on  “the  deck” 
after  supper  and  recline  there  enjoying  the  rest- 
ful beauty  of  it  all  and  the  cool  caresses  of  the 
ministering  breeze,  the  angel  of  the  sunset,  who 
came  after  the  long  hot  day  on  his  errand  of 
mercy.  A holy  calm  enveloped  all  nature,  on 
which  lay  the  benison  and  peace  of  God. 

Down  at  their  feet  lay  the  garden.  There  was 
a great  bed  of  lilies  of  the  valley,  half  in  the 
shadow  of  the  bank  and  the  grove.  There  were 
grape-vines  full  of  luscious  promise,  there  was 
thyme,  sage  and  lavender,  a long  hedge  of  haw- 
thorn and  there  were  raspberries,  currants,  and 
rows  and  rows  of  vegetables. 

On  the  low  bank,  separating  the  back  from  the 
front  garden  was  a thick  grove  of  young  trees, 
and  a few  steps  further  on,  the  dear  old  grove. 

The  west  wind  had  a grand  sweep  over  the 
valley,  and  sometimes  when  the  monsoons  were 
on — oh,  but  they  are  the  lords  of  creation,  and 
make  themselves  heard  when  they  are  about — 
there  was  a commotion  and  no  mistake.  It  was 
a world  of  turmoil  and  topsy-turvy  then,  sure 


l8o  At  the  River 

enough.  Mrs.  Won  used  to  say  the  surging, 
swinging  and  swaying  of  tortured  foliage  was 
like  the  raging  of  the  ocean,  and  positively  made 
her  seasick  with  its  continuous  sweep,  rise  and 
fall. 

In  front,  on  the  first  terrace  above  the  river, 
was  more  garden,  with  berries,  fruit  trees  and 
vegetables.  Here  was  long  feathery  asparagus 
with  its  red  berries,  here  the  sunflowers  were  al- 
lowed to  riot,  and  just  the  loveliest  double  rose 
hollyhocks ! There  was  a little  spring  that 
trickled  down  here,  and  in  its  bed  grew  crisp, 
cool  water  cresses. 

On  the  next  terrace  stood  the  little  native 
house,  now  used  by  the  servants  and  gardener, 
and  not  far  from  it,  in  the  prettiest  nook,  shaded 
by  a bower  of  trees  was  the  well.  A little  above 
this  lay  meadows  bordered  round  with  young 
oaks  and  pines,  and  on  the  upper  level,  the 
homes. 

Pastor  Won  had  asked  two  friends  who  had 
little  ones,  to  share  this  place  with  him,  and  so 
each  brought  a third,  and  their  houses  stood 
there  like  three  sisters,  year  by  year.  From  the 
front  of  the  Wons’  house,  especially  the  upper 
floor, — not  much  could  be  seen  from  the  lower 
piazza,  the  house  was  so  wreathed  in  vines  and 
embowered  in  young  trees,  which  they  were  not 
resolute  enough  to  cut  down — there  was  an  en- 
chanting view. 


The  Mountain  View  i8l 

Down  below,  winding,  curving  among  its  high 
banks,  so  as  to  remind  one  of  the  Italian  lakes, 
lay  the  river,  sometimes  a sheet  of  silver,  some- 
times a sapphire  jewel  set  on  the  broad  bosom  of 
mother  earth.  On  its  surface  floated  gracefully 
now  and  then  the  Korean  fishing  boats,  with 
their  gorgeous  ochre  sails,  adding  the  one  touch 
of  brilliant  colour  to  the  subdued  tones  of  the 
landscape.  Beyond  lay  more  green  hills,  and 
still  beyond  a long  blue  line  of  mountains. 

These  mountains  never  presented  the  same 
aspect  twice.  In  the  morning  sunshine  they  lay 
in  melting  shades  of  green  and  blue,  with  soft 
shadows  lurking  upon  them.  In  the  sunset  glow 
they  “ reposed  in  purple  distance  fair,”  or  bathed 
in  silver  moonlight  they  assumed  a weird,  mys- 
terious grandeur.  In  the  wet  season  they  were 
more  beautiful  than  ever,  for  then  the  nearer 
were  robed  in  an  exquisite  misty  veil  of  French 
gray,  while  those  more  distant,  half  revealed, 
half  hidden,  melted  into  the  arms  of  the  low- 
stooping  clouds,  and  the  passionate  rain.  Like 
a beautiful  woman,  who  though  unshakenly  faith- 
ful, yet  wears  a thousand  changing  moods,  and 
hides  her  love  beneath  a guise  of  fickleness  and 
coquetry,  these  mountains  seemed  more  dear, 
more  beautiful  with  every  change. 

The  steep  banks  of  the  bluff  were  overgrown 
with  a tangle  of  wild  vines,  wild  flowers,  bushes 
of  sweet  syringa,  azalias  and  young  oak  and 


i82 


At  the  River 


chestnut-trees.  A path  winds  and  climbs  all 
round  this  bank,  between  the  stately  trees ; and 
just  where  the  terrace  falls  to  the  river,  under 
the  wide-spreading  arms  of  a friendly  tree,  is  a 
bench,  seated  on  which,  in  the  grateful  shade, 
the  branches  framing  the  whole  picture,  one  can 
sit,  unseen  from  the  house  or  river,  and  feel  one- 
self melt  into  it  all. 

Here  could  be  watched  the  glow  of  the  sun- 
set reflected  on  the  yellow  hill  and  sands  to  the 
left  of  their  bluff,  the  “ purple  in  the  distance,” 
and  the  shimmering  leaves.  Here  one  could 
listen  to  the  gentle  ripple  of  water,  the  occa- 
sional splash  of  oars,  the  humming  of  insects,  the 
chirping  of  birds,  the  distant  laughter  of  children, 
the  soft  rustling  of  foliage,  the  whisper  of  the 
wind,  and  all  the  sweet  music  of  the  quietness. 

There  were  two  magnificent  golden  orioles, 
the  aristocrats  of  the  garden,  very  shy  and  ex- 
clusive, but  now  and  then  they  would  conde- 
scend and  favour  the  residents  of  the  cottages, 
with  an  outpouring  of  incomparable  liquid  music. 
Then  of  course  there  would  follow  at  once,  im- 
pertinent whisperings,  and  tiptoeings  for  a peep 
at  the  beautiful  singers,  and  then  a whirr  of 
indignant  wings,  with  nothing  left  to  prove  it 
was  not  an  heavenly  illusion  but  the  swaying  of 
some  light  branch  in  the  tree-top. 

It  was  desecration,  of  course,  to  admit  a horde 
of  Chinese  coolies  to  such  a place.  Certainly,  it 


Painting  the  House  183 

was  agonizing,  but  ten  or  fifteen  of  the  greasiest, 
dirtiest,  noisiest,  most  sacrilegious  Chinamen  had 
to  be  let  loose  into  all  that  beauty  and  holy 
peace,  among  those  hills,  trees,  birds  and  flowers. 

Worse  still,  the  Wons  had  to  order  it  them- 
selves. The  house  must  be  painted.  Pastor 
Won  was  too  busy,  translating;  Mrs.  Won  was 
sick  on  her  couch  and  Harry  was  quite  too 
small,  so  there  it  was,  nothing  for  it  but  call  the 
Chinamen.  Pastor  Won  went  off  to  the  city  to 
his  work,  the  mother  had  her  long  cane  chair 
and  herself  carried  out  to  the  grove  where  she 
could  not  see  them,  and  could  less  distinctly  hear 
their  loud,  rasping  voices,  their  blood-curdling, 
out-of-tune  falsetto  songs,  and  all  the  “ yahdon.” 

And  oh,  such  terrible  work  as  they  made  of  it 
all ! The  roof  was  to  be  rather  a dull  red,  and 
the  house  a subdued  grayish  green.  So  they 
climbed  to  the  roof  first,  and  daubed  on  the  red 
paint,  which,  too  thinly  mixed,  dripped  down  the 
walls,  over  the  sweet  fresh  wisteria,  rosebushes, 
and  white  lilacs,  and  lay  on  the  ground  like  the 
ghastly  results  of  some  awful  deed  of  blood. 

It  was  cruel,  shocking,  but  there  was  more  to 
come.  They  cooked  their  greasy  food,  and  left 
their  greasy  dinner  pails  in  the  fair  wide  porch, 
leaving  odours  and  stains  unmentionable.  With 
rags  they  washed  the  walls  with  green  paint, 
which  also  trickled  to  the  piazzas  in  little  streams, 
and  though  the  west  wall  was  the  colour  indi- 


184 


At  the  River 


Gated  by  the  owner,  the  south  side  was  a peacock 
blue,  the  east  an  olive  green  and  the  north 
another  shade  of  greenish  gray.  This  was  har- 
rowing, but  even  this  was  not  the  end.  When 
the  balconies  were  to  be  painted,  and  they  were 
left  till  the  last,  these  men  were  told  to  paint 
them  also  green  to  match  the  door  and  window 
trimmings.  This  simple  suggestion  seemed  dif- 
ficult for  them  to  grasp,  for  an  idea  is  elusive, 
largely  to  that  order  of  Chinamen.  Moreover, 
they  spoke  no  English,  the  Wons,  no  Chinese ; 
therefore  through  the  medium  of  mixed  pidgeon 
English  and  badly  mutilated  Korean  with  the 
aid  of  shouts,  the  two  parties  tried,  respectively, 
to  elucidate  and  to  apprehend  what  was  desired. 

About  an  hour  later  Harry  was  seen  running 
wildly  to  his  mamma  where  she  lay  under  the 
pines,  breathing  perfume  and  unsuspicious  of 
disaster ; peacefully  drinking  in  the  harmonies 
of  tint  and  sound  about  her,  he  was  crying 
excitedly,  “ Mamma,  mamma,  they  are  painting 
the  roof  green.”  Mrs.  Won  had  not  walked 
more  than  a few  steps  at  a time  for  weeks,  but, 
under  the  stimulus  of  these  words,  she  rose, 
dragged  her  unwilling  limbs  to  a spot  in  full 
view  of  the  house,  and  beheld  half  the  roof  a 
vivid  green.  It  was  of  course  only  a trivial 
thing,  and  had  she  been  well  she  might  have 
laughed,  but  under  the  circumstances  it  assumed 
the  proportions  of  a calamity.  Of  course  a mis- 


Missionaries  Are  Yet  Human  185 

sionary  ought  to  be  above  caring  what  colour 
her  roof  may  be,  or  mind  whether  her  house  is 
defaced  or  her  flowers  injured,  but  poor  Mrs. 
Won  was  not  at  all  a perfect  missionary.  She 
loved  the  natives  and  her  work,  but  yet  she 
loved  beauty ; she  had  her  ideals  of  how  her 
house  ought  to  look;  she  took  a keen  pleasure 
in  pretty  ornaments,  hats  and  dresses,  etc.,  when 
her  mother  or  sisters  sent  them  from  America, 
and  I have  seen  her  grieved  over  a piece  of 
broken  glass  or  china.  You  may  as  well  know 
the  truth  about  Mrs.  Won  ; she  was  very,  very 
human,  and  never  made  any  pretense  of  being 
otherwise.  In  fact  she  knew  she  was  not  nearly 
so  noble,  wise  or  good  as  many  quiet  Christian 
women  whose  only  field  is  their  home. 

In  fact  most  missionaries,  as  far  as  I know 
them,  are  like  most  other  Christians,  sincere  but 
imperfect.  All  of  them,  as  far  as  I could  judge, 
have  gone  to  foreign  lands  under  the  deep  and 
overwhelming  conviction  that  their  duty  lay 
there,  and  some  under  a keen  sense  of  sacrifice, 
some  with  as  keen  a pleasure  in  anticipation  of 
inspiring  work,  have  left  more  or  less  that  was 
dear  and  tempting  to  answer  that  call.  But  they 
took  with  them  human  bodies  and  natures  like 
those  of  other  men,  very  weak  and  frail.  Satan 
has  a pass  on  every  steamer  and  is  very  much 
at  home  on  the  foreign  field,  so  that  while  one 
set  of  allurements  and  temptations  has  been  left 


i86 


At  the  River 


behind,  his  fertility  in  inventions  for  trying  men’s 
souls  has  never  failed,  and  the  missionaries  strug- 
gle along  much  like  the  rest  of  us,  fighting, 
stumbling,  perhaps  falling  now  and  then,  but  up 
and  on  again,  with  one  aim,  one  hope,  one  joy, 
the  King  and  the  coming  of  the  kingdom.  They 
are  beset  with  frailties,  but  like  that  other  mis- 
sionary Paul,  they  forget  what  is  behind,  reach 
forward  to  what  is  before,  and  press  towards  the 
mark. 

I had  to  come  down  from  the  roof  to  explain 
about  Mrs.  Won,  for  probably  most  of  you  noted 
with  pained  surprise  her  solicitude  about  it.  Yes, 
the  one  whole  half  was  green,  the  other  red,  which 
meant  a still  longer  visitation  of  the  Chinese 
while  the  mistake  was  repaired,  more  bloody 
dye  on  vines  and  bushes,  and  still  worse,  trick- 
ling streams  of  red,  down  the  sides  of  the  green 
house  and  piazzas. 

“ Ah,  well,  I’ve  cared  too  much  about  earthly 
things,”  thought  she  with  accusing  conscience ; 
“ this  is  a lesson  to  teach  me  patience  and  a 
mind  above  little  worldly  affairs.”  Now  when 
she  could 

“ Find  in  loss  a gain  to  match. 

And  reach  a hand  through  time,  to  catch 
The  far  off  interest  of  tears,” 

Mrs.  Won  always  grew  more  content.  It  is  a 
kind  of  moral  commercialism ; Tennyson  scorns 
it,  but  it  is  comforting  at  any  rate. 


A Sure  Cure  For  Cholera  187 

A fruitless  grief,  agony  endured  for  naught 
seemed  to  her  the  most  terrific  possibility  of  sor- 
row, great  or  small.  So  she  became  resigned  to 
her  disappointment  in  the  cottage  itself,  and 
found  her  joy  more  and  more  in  the  life,  in, 
around  and  above  it.  After  the  Chinamen  were 
gone,  nature  gradually  asserted  her  sway,  and 
mended  things  generally,  as  she  always  does 
when  allowed.  New  leaves  budded  where  those 
defaced  and  killed  had  been,  vines  grew  lovingly 
over  the  glaring  paint,  summer  suns  and  rains 
toned  down  all  that  was  inharmonious,  and  like 
all  our  childish  trials  and  tears,  the  loving  Hand 
smoothed  and  wiped  them  all  away.  Many 
things  happened  that  first  summer  at  the  river. 
First  of  all  there  was  cholera  all  over  the  coun- 
try, but  especially  in  the  city,  and  the  missionary 
fathers  and  mothers,  too,  had  to  leave  the  little 
ones  with  trusted  caretakers,  and  spend  days 
and  weeks  in  the  town  nursing  the  sick  and 
dying. 

There  wasn’t  much  cholera  at  the  river  because 
the  cat  was  there.  What  had  the  cat  to  do  with 
it,  and  what  cat  was  it? 

Well,  cholera,  of  course,  you  know,  is  the  rat 
disease.  You  can  feel  the  rats  biting,  and  run- 
ning up  your  legs  and  arms  if  you  have  it,  so 
there  is  no  doubt.  Now  the  hill  across  the  valley, 
in  which  the  pretty  village  nestled,  was  the  cat. 
I never  could  see  that  it  looked  like  a cat,  but 


i88 


At  the  River 


that  was  what  it  was,  and  had  been  for  ages, 
there  was  no  disputing  that,  appearances  to  the 
contrary,  and  no  matter  what  anybody  said.  As 
every  one  knows,  rats  won’t  go  near  a cat,  so 
there  you  have  it ; of  course  there  could  be  no 
cholera  in  that  neighbourhood. 

Koreans  have  many  strange  superstitions  re- 
garding certain  hills  and  mountains.  The  moun- 
tain of  which  the  Wons’  bluff  was  one  of  the 
lowest  folds,  was  called  the  silk  worm.  Now  to 
keep  this  worm  in  good  temper  and  condition, 
and  so  insure  the  safety  and  good  fortune  of  the 
capital,  it  must  be  fed.  Therefore  just  across  the 
river  the  government  had  planted  and  cultivated, 
with  great  care,  a large  grove  of  mulberry-trees. 
It  may  seem  incredible,  but  it  is  nevertheless  a 
fact. 

Well,  there  was,  as  I said,  that  summer,  the 
cholera  for  one  thing,  and  the  whooping  cough 
for  another.  The  little  Appletons  began  it,  but 
no  matter  who,  it  went  all  round,  and  of  course 
Harry  had  it.  He  never  skipped  any  fun  going, 
so  his  Amonni  was  in  straits,  for  Harry  not  only 
didn’t  skip  things,  but  what  he  did,  he  did  with 
his  might.  He  had  whooping  cough  with  all 
the  trimmings,  and  was  a pretty  sick  little  boy ; 
for  the  worst  of  it  was,  the  envious  cough 
wouldn’t  let  him  keep  food  long  enough  to  get 
any  life  to  fight  withal.  “There  go  my  ginger 
snaps,”  wailed  Willie  A.,  with  a howl  of  anguish. 


Harry  Has  Whooping  Cough  189 

and  there  went  Harry’s  bread  and  butter,  and 
beefsteak,  too.  What  with  that,  and  long  con- 
vulsive fits  of  coughing  every  night  when  it 
almost  seemed  as  if  life  itself  would  be  shaken 
out  of  the  little  frame,  the  boy  soon  grew  almost 
transparent  enough  to  see  through,  and  very 
languid  and  frail. 

However,  the  little  ship  weathered  this  storm 
too,  the  Master  ever  caring  for  it,  and  calming 
the  winds  and  waves. 

To  keep  the  interest  going  they  had  a crazy 
man  one  summer,  and  a robber  another.  One 
always  wants  some  great  attraction  to  make  a 
place  popular,  and  if  one  cannot  have  a confer- 
ence or  a midway,  or  a general  assembly,  or  a 
merr}^-go-round,  why  one  must  be  content  for- 
sooth with  such  poor  substitutes  as  crazy  men 
and  burglars. 

For  the  crazy  man  he  seemed  harmless  enough, 
poor  fellow,  only  that  he  made  night  hideous 
with  his  awful  shrieks.  That  seemed  to  be  his 
favourite  time  to  wander  abroad,  and  somewhere 
between  twelve  and  the  earliest  dawn  after  every- 
body had  fought  the  good  fight  with  mosquitoes 
and  sunk  to  blissful  repose,  they  were  startled 
wide  awake  by  such  cries  as  only  the  insane  and 
sleep  walkers  can  make,  agonizing  and  terrify- 
ing. It  was  no  matter  that  they  had  heard  it  be- 
fore, the  women,  at  least  never  found  that  its 
horror  lessened,  and  even  the  men  didn’t  really 


190 


At  the  River 


like  it.  But  the  poor  creature  did  not  confine  his 
wanderings  to  the  night  hours. 

He  had  an  uncanny  way  of  suddenly  appear- 
ing on  the  piazzas  among  the  women  and  chil- 
dren, demanding  food  and  money.  He  claimed 
to  be  a convert  who  had  fallen  from  grace,  and 
would  beg  Pastor  Won  to  pray  for  him,  or  insist 
that  Pastor  Won  and  only  he  could  cure  his  poor 
head. 

In  Korea,  as  in  other  lands  where  the  Gospel 
has  only  recently  come,  there  are  no  hospitals  or 
asylums  for  the  sick,  blind,  insane,  homeless,  or 
orphans,  except  such  as  established  by  mission- 
aries, and  supported  by  Western  Christians. 
This  man’s  family,  poor  farmers  themselves,  tried 
to  guard  and  take  care  of  him,  but  there  are  no 
rooms  in  their  poor  huts  where  such  a subject 
could  be  securely  confined.  He  therefore  escaped 
them  continually,  wandering  about  a terror  and 
nuisance  to  the  whole  vicinity,  was  daily  stoned 
and  beaten  by  heartless  natives,  whose  goods  he 
stole,  or  whose  children  he  alarmed,  and  was  ex- 
posed with  scant  clothing  in  all  weather,  to  num- 
berless hardships.  Mrs.  Won  used  to  think  that 
if  some  of  those  who  carp  at  missions  could  live 
in  mission  lands  a few  years,  “ before  and  after  ” 
and  see  the  pitiful  condition  of  large  classes  of 
sufferers,  without  the  institutions  of  Christianity, 
and  later  could  see  how  gratefully  those  benefac- 
tions are  received  and  adopted  even  by  the  un- 


Comes  A Robber  191 

converted  heathen,  they  might  be  convinced  of 
their  mistake. 

Then  there  was  the  robber.  He,  indeed,  has 
passed  into  history ; he  looms  greater  and  more 
imposing  every  year.  The  older  ones  tell  the 
tale,  in  hushed  whispers,  to  the  younger,  who 
listen  with  delicious  creeps,  bated  breath  and  up- 
rising hair.  It  is  casually  mentioned  to  young 
lady  visitors  like  the  ghastly  legends  of  ancient 
houses  to  lend  dignity  to  the  estate,  “ a skeleton 
awaiting  at  the  feast,  whereby  their  sinful  pleas- 
ure is  increased.” 

It  began  with  the  upper  house,  irreverently 
called  “ the  peanut  gallery  ” because  it  stood  on 
the  crest  of  the  hill,  head,  shoulders  and  more 
above  the  other  two.  At  the  Wons,  the  Captain 
was  lying  in  a dead  stupor  with  a terrible  fever. 
Mrs.  Won  was  watching,  and  Harry  was  lost  in 
dreams.  In  the  little  cottage  below  were  the  na- 
tive servants.  To  Harry’s  Amonni,  it  all  began 
with  one  piercing,  blood-curdling  shriek  from  the 
upper  house,  which  tore  the  dead  stillness  of  mid- 
night, and  seemed  to  freeze  the  very  air  of 
August.  Then  awful  silence  as  though  the  uni- 
verse had  been  murdered  when  that  cry  rang 
forth.  The  suspense  was  terrible ; Mrs.  Won 
rushed  out  to  the  veranda,  where  she  could  dis- 
cern nothing  but  the  servants,  hurrying  up  the 
hill  with  a lantern.  Soon,  there  were  more 
screams,  hurried  calls,  and  signs  that  there  were 


192 


At  the  River 


at  least  some  lively  survivors  still  left  in  creation. 
What  had  really  happened  was,  that  a young 
lady  visitor  in  the  upper  house  had  awakened  to 
find  a great,  repulsive  looking  Korean,  standing 
over  her  holding  a horrible  long  knife,  with  which 
he  threatened  to  cut  her  throat  instantly,  if  she 
dared  utter  a sound.  Upon  which,  with  all  a 
woman’s  recklessness  of  consequences,  she 
shrieked  the  clarion  like  blast,  which  roused 
everybody.  The  wretch  fled  ; there  was  a game 
of  hide  and  seek  on  the  premises  ; then  while  the 
pursuers  were  in  the  grounds,  the  burglar  again 
invaded  the  house,  and  now  threatened  not  only 
to  murder  everybody  in  it,  but  to  burn  them  and 
it  up  together — inspired  no  doubt  by  a little  vex- 
ation over  the  bother  he  was  having — and  pos- 
sessing himself  of  everything  he  could  lay  hands 
on,  he  speedily  decamped  to  the  tune  of  a chorus 
of  screams  from  the  women  and  children,  hotly 
pursued  by  Mr.  Markham  and  the  servants. 
But  he  had  slipped  into  the  velvet  blackness  of 
the  night  and  utterly  disappeared.  The  whole 
neighbourhood,  however,  had  learned  a valuable 
lesson,  namely  that  American  women  cannot  be 
depended  on  to  be  quiet,  when  hushed  with  a 
knife  or  revolver,  and  that  their  nerves  are  a 
dangerous  obstacle  to  the  peaceful  prosecution  of 
burglary. 

Mrs.  Won  felt  rather  neglected  when  she 
found  they  were  entirely  left  out,  but  excused  it 


Come  Blind  Men 


193 


on  the  ground  that  their  house  was  two  stories 
high,  the  lower  entrances  securely  barred,  and 
that  they  were  known  to  have  a shotgun  on 
hand. 

An  amusing  incident  occurred  on  one  of  the 
first  nights  of  their  occupancy  of  the  house,  which 
had  led  them  to  take  some  extra  care.  They 
were  wakened  in  the  middle  of  the  night  by  soft 
footfalls  on  their  lower  veranda,  and  the  sound  of 
fingers  tampering  with  the  latches.  The  Captain 
jumped  up  quickly,  and  looking  down,  beheld  a 
party  of  ten  or  twelve  men  on  the  lower  veranda, 
quietly  walking  about,  feeling  and  examining  the 
windows  and  doors.  They  all  carried  long  walk- 
ing sticks  like  blind  men.  “Who  are  you?” 
cried  he.  “ We  are  blind  men,”  was  the  reply. 
“What  are  you  doing  down  there?”  “We 
have  come  for  a ‘ kugiaig ' (sight-seeing),  your 
honour.”  “This  is  a strange  noise  for  you  to 
make  that  you  come  at  midnight  to  see  my  house. 
What  do  you  mean,  what  word  is  this  you 
speak?”  “Sir,  we  are  blind,  night  is  all  one 
with  us,  as  day  ; we  were  passing  and  thought  we 
would  look  and  see.” 

Now  this  was  all  very  well ; and  knowing  the 
nocturnal  habits  of  the  blind  sorcerers,  it  was  not 
without  some  show  of  probability,  but  neverthe- 
less a feeling  of  suspicion  remained,  especially  as 
these  men  themselves  are  a very  disreputable 
class ; so  bidding  them  begone  and  henceforth 


194 


At  the  River 


make  their  visits  at  seasonable  hours,  the  master 
of  the  house  looked  well  to  the  fastenings  and 
guards.  ^ 

Nor  was  this  all.  There  was  a shrine  far  above 
them,  in  a lonely,  wild  place,  where  there  was  a 
little  grove ; this,  too,  had  an  atmosphere  of 
mystery  and  danger.  Bad  men  were  said  to  be 
often  in  hiding  there  and  to  come  forth  at  night 
to  rob  the  villages  and  wayfarers.  One  night 
Pastor  Won,  returning  home  after  dark,  met  a 
man  near  there,  who  had  been  badly  cut,  and 
was  covered  w'ith  blood,  and  said  he  had  been 
met  by  thieves,  who  had  robbed  him  of  his  pack 
of  merchandise.  Besides,  a servant,  returning 
one  evening  from  the  city  through  the  woods, 
with  meat  and  other  household  supplies,  came  in 
empty  handed,  ghastly  white,  almost  fainting,  and 
declared  he  had  been  followed  by  a ghost,  who 
nevertheless  seemed  to  be  rather  a materialistic 
one,  for  he  jumped  on  the  man’s  back,  knocked 
him  down,  and  made  off  with  the  food. 

The  natives  believe  very  firmly  in  all  sorts  of 
ghosts,  spirits  and  demons,  and  stand  in  abject 
terror  of  them  all.  They  believe,  too,  that  cer- 
tain houses  and  localities  are  haunted,  and  will 
not  go  near  them  after  dark.  Robbers  take  ad- 
vantage of  this  superstition  to  haunt  these  places 
themselves.  They  are  usually  very  violent  and 
murderous,  because,  if  caught,  severe  torture 
and  even  death  is  the  sure  sentence.  They  have 


Peace  At  Last 


195 


no  mercy  to  hope  for,  and  rather  than  risk  the 
chance  of  escape,  show  none.  They  usually  go 
in  parties,  armed  with  long  knives  and  will  ter- 
rorize whole  villages,  plundering  the  poor  people 
of  everything  worth  carrying  away. 

After  that  summer  the  Wons  and  their  neigh- 
bours were  troubled  no  further,  except  by  a few 
slight  pilferings,  and  little  by  little,  as  the  village 
people  came  to  recognize  them  as  friends  and 
learned  that  instead  of  oppressors,  they  had 
found  protectors,  who  helped  mend  their  roads, 
bought  their  wood,  eggs  and  chickens  at  good 
prices,  gave  medicine  to  their  sick,  respected 
their  grave  sites,  and  prevented  the  lawless  from 
destroying  their  trees,  they  felt  towards  and 
treated  the  foreigners  as  neighbours,  the  fruit  and 
vegetables  unfenced,  remained  untouched,  and 
the  women  and  children,  undisturbed.  So  there 
was  peace  and  good  fellowship  at  the  river. 


IX 


THE  RAINY  SEASON 

As  has  been  already  hinted  in  the  previous 
chapter,  Korean  punishments  are  very  violent, 
even  for  light  offenses.  Men  are  put  in  the 
stocks  or  terribly  beaten  with  long,  flat,  wooden 
paddles,  and  decapitations  and  hangings  often 
take  place  on  short  notice.  Occasionally  men 
are  secretly  murdered  in  prison  when  it  is  feared 
that  intercession  by  powerful  friends,  or  some- 
thing unforeseen  might  avail  to  thwart  the  ends 
of  those  concerned  in  getting  rid  of  them. 

According  to  the  old  regime,  police  sent  to 
make  arrests,  always  expected  to  be  paid  by  the 
unfortunate  for  decent  treatment,  higher  officials 
at  the  jail  in  larger  ratio,  and  finally,  unless  a 
crime  arousing  the  unpurchasable  hate  of  some 
great  one  was  in  question,  a sufficient  sum  would 
generally  secure  a favourable  sentence,  or  largely 
mitigate  the  severity  of  the  punishment. 

The  blind  sorcerers  and  Buddhist  priests,  al- 
ready referred  to,  are  both  somewhat  dangerous 
and  suspected  members  of  the  community.  The 
latter  are  forbidden  the  capital,  and  rank  next  to 
butchers,  the  lowest  in  the  land.  They  belong  to 
the  mendicant  “ne’er  do  weel”  class,  and  are 

196 


Priests  and  Priestesses 


197 


usually  initiated,  as  friendless  orphan  children, 
into  their  profession,  at  the  temples  where  they 
are  received  and  fed,  and  in  return  are  obliged  to 
beg,  and  ply  the  arts  of  the  priest,  attending  very 
likely  to  some  rich  man’s  shrine  or  grave  site,  or 
performing  servile  duties  and  helping  in  any 
way  possible  the  little  community  of  which  they 
have  become  members. 

Both  priests  and  priestesses  wear  their  hair 
shaved,  dress  alike,  and  can  hardly  be  distin- 
guished apart.  There  is  much  superstition  in 
some  very  high  quarters,  and  a great  deal  of 
money  passes  through  their  hands,  but  of  any 
real  religion  or  conscientious  following  of  the 
plainest  teachings  of  Buddha,  much  less  any 
knowledge  of  his  doctrines  among  the  people,  I 
have  seen  nothing. 

Ancestor  worship,  it  appears  to  me,  comes 
nearer  being  a religion  in  Korea  than  anything 
they  have.  However,  trees,  spirits  and  devils 
are  all  worshipped,  sacrificed  to  and  feared,  and 
many  conform  to  a large  number  of  superstitious 
rites.  When  in  hot  water,  out  of  which  they  de- 
sire to  escape  with  speed,  it  is  a matter  of  small 
concern  who  helps  them,  Satan,  or  the  honour- 
able heaven ; to  get  out,  and  quickly,  is  the  only 
object. 

The  sorcerers  are  called  in  even  more  fre- 
quently than  the  priests,  and  they  trade  of  course 
on  the  superstitions  of  the  ignorant,  to  a fearful 


198  The  Rainy  Season 

extent.  Blind  children  for  whom  there  are  of 
course  no  institutions  of  mercy,  are  almost  inva- 
riably condemned  to  this  life  of  dishonesty,  chi- 
canery, trickery,  begging  and  shame.  Like  the 
priests  and  dancing  girls  they  are  taught  their 
profession  from  early  childhood,  Satan  recogniz- 
ing full  that  it  is  best  to  begin  early  to  mould  a 
man  in  the  shape  he  is  to  bear  through  eternity. 
The  sorcerers  go  into  trances,  practice  hypnotism 
and,  I believe,  telepathy,  from  what  I have  heard 
of  their  remarkable  accomplishments. 

A few  asylums  for  homeless  and  blind  children 
would  soon,  to  a large  extent,  break  up  these 
dens  of  iniquity  and  sources  of  danger  to  the 
public,  and  would  result  in  the  rescue  of  thou- 
sands of  pitiful  little  waifs,  both  boys  and  girls, 
who  fall  into  the  clutches  of  these  evil  people,  or 
are  sold  into  slavery,  worse  than  death,  at  the 
tenderest  age,  because  there  is  no  one  to  whom 
they  belong,  or  who  is  able  to  protect  them. 

If  even  in  so-called  Christian  lands,  thousands 
of  children  suffer  in  unnumbered  ways,  in  a 
country  where  no  institutions  of  mercy  exist,  the 
terrible  condition  of  things  can  scarcely  be  over- 
stated, and  there  is  hardly  a coolie  but  can  buy 
for  a bag  of  rice  some  wretched  little  being  as  a 
slave. 

But  to  return  to  the  river,  and  the  Wons,  after 
this  rather  long  digression,  in  spite  of  the  various 
exciting  little  episodes  which  lent  spice  to  ex- 


In  Swimming  199 

istence  there,  they  were  extremely  happy  in  their 
river  home.  The  pastor  had  one  of  his  Korean 
literary  helpers  there,  and  at  early  daylight  was 
at  his  literary  work,  the  preparation  of  native 
Christian  books,  which  went  on  vastly  better  in 
these  quiet  surroundings  than  amid  the  disturb- 
ances and  interruptions  of  the  city.  About  five 
o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  however,  work  stopped, 
and  all  adjourned  to  the  river  for  a dip.  The 
little  fellows  soon  learned  to  swim  like  ducks,  and 
looked  forward  all  day  to  this  as  the  sweetest 
promise  of  existence.  Then  tea  was  served  on 
the  bluff  by  one  of  the  ladies,  when  all  gathered 
together  after  the  heat  of  the  day  and  its  busi- 
ness for  a pleasant  time  together.  One  of  the 
customs  which  they  loved  was  the  half  hour 
prayer-meeting.  Ever^^body  dropped  his  work 
or  play,  came  as  they  were,  and  united  in  song 
and  prayer.  It  began  when  their  hearts  were 
heavy  with  anxiety  for  brothers  in  China,  and 
proved  such  a blessing  that  it  became  an  insti- 
tution. 

But  when  the  rains  began  and  kept  on  and  on, 
for  days  and  weeks,  as  they  did  some  summers 
for  ten  weeks,  with  only  the  briefest  of  intermis- 
sions ; oh,  then,  there  was  no  swimming,  no  tea 
on  the  bluff,  no  games  among  the  trees,  no  cro- 
quet on  the  lawn,  no  anything,  but  trying  to 
keep  dry  and  to  stop  up  leaks.  Boots  and  shoes 
turned  green  and  woolly  with  mould  in  a night, 


200 


The  Rainy  Season 

garments  mildewed  almost  while  one  was  wear- 
ing them,  bedding  grew  musty  and  wet,  and  the 
river,  oh,  the  river  1 From  being  a calm,  beauti- 
ful, placid  stream,  it  suddenly  became  a dark, 
muddy,  evilly  booming  flood,  which  carried  away 
branches  of  trees,  broken  rafts,  and  demolished 
houses. 

It  spread  over  the  plains  where  the  mulberries 
stood  to  the  feet  of  the  hills  beyond,  and  rose, 
little  by  little,  till  it  crept  into  the  Wons’  lower 
garden,  half  drowning  the  blackberries,  who 
found  their  best  thorns  of  no  avail  to  keep  off 
this  invader.  On  the  other  side,  it  flooded  the 
valley  between  the  Wons  and  the  fairy  road,  so 
that  the  fishing  smacks  and  ferryboats  came  well 
into  view,  and  sometimes  they  had  quite  a fleet 
almost  at  their  back  door. 

The  frogs  croaked  dismally,  the  wind  wailed 
and  howled  among  the  trees,  the  sun  was  under 
a wet  blanket  for  days,  the  mountains  were 
veiled  in  mist,  but  oh,  how  green,  how  deliciously 
fresh  and  green,  were  the  meadows  and  all  the 
foliage,  the  leaves  fairly  shining  in  their  contin- 
ual bath.  And  how  things  grew  ! This  was  the 
time  for  setting  slips,  and  transplanting  bushes 
and  trees. 

This  was  the  time  for  reading  delightful  books, 
making  up  arrears  of  correspondence,  getting 
fall  sewing  done,  and  this  the  time  for  the  chil- 
dren to  assemble  on  one  of  the  well-sheltered 


201 


Hard  Going 

piazzas,  and  play  games,  read  stories,  practice 
on  the  trapeze  and  regulate  stamp  collections 
and  scrap-books. 

The  first  bright  day,  out  went  all  the  garments 
and  bedding  on  the  upper  veranda  for  a thor- 
ough airing  and  sunning,  and  then  when  an  un- 
expected malicious  cloud  suddenly  let  down  a 
sheet  of  water,  there  were  racings  and  chasings, 
and  a general  scramble  of  the  whole  household 
to  the  rescue.  If  anybody  ventured  forth,  how- 
ever, at  that  season  he  must  go  prepared  for 
flooded  roads,  and  terrible  storms.  Rubber 
boots  and  mackintoshes  are  very  well  for  ordi- 
nary rains,  but  it  is  an  extraordinary  mackintosh 
which  will  long  withstand  such  fierce  downpours  ; 
no  boots  are  sufficient  for  such  floods,  and  more 
than  once  had  Mr.  Won  in  his  country  trips  been 
forced  to  wade  to  his  neck  through  streams  whose 
current  was  so  strong  he  could  only,  with  great 
difficulty,  keep  his  feet.  More  than  once  drenched 
to  the  skin,  his  baggage  soaked  through,  with- 
out a dry  garment,  he  had  sought  for  hours  in 
vain  for  an  inn.  That  is  the  time  of  year  when 
the  only  news  of  the  day  is  of  leaks  and  floods. 
When  in  the  black  midnight  watches,  Mrs.  Won 
lay  awake  listening  half  fascinated,  half  horrified, 
to  the  sullen  roar  of  the  river,  the  howls  of  the 
wind  and  the  steady  pounding  of  the  rain,  she 
heard  a dull  thud  somewhere,  that  meant  great 
lumps  of  ceiling  were  falling,  or  if  it  were  merely 


202 


The  Rainy  Season 

a cheerful  little  drip,  drip,  that  was  a new  leak. 
Only  hoping  it  wasn’t  on  books  or  other  dam- 
ageable property,  the  two  would  make  their  ex- 
plorations, lay  bath  towels,  floor  cloths,  water 
proofs  and  sheets  around  door  casings  and  win- 
dows, place  all  the  kitchen  utensils  available 
under  the  leaks,  and  go  back  to  their  damp  beds 
and  clammy  sheets  for  a short  respite,  until  some 
fresh  disaster  called  for  the  exercise  of  their 
sleepy  energies. 

Korean  roofs  are  tiled  or  thatched,  in  either 
case  the  fall  must  be  steep  to  carry  off  all  the 
water  in  these  terrific  rains,  and  if  the  roof  mend- 
ers, who  are  called  in  the  spring  are  careless,  if 
a tile  or  two  is  left  broken,  badly  placed,  or  with- 
out enough  overlap,  sorrow  is  sure  to  follow  in 
the  rains.  Or  even  when  all  has  been  well  done, 
the  wind  often  tears  off  large  parts  of  the  thatch, 
or  loosens  and  displaces  tiles.  Water  pours  in 
around  the  casements,  and  in  all  sorts  of  un- 
imagined ways,  finds  jealous  entrance  if  there 
remains  a single  dry  place  in  creation.  The 
whole  atmosphere  is  so  overloaded  with  moisture 
that  one’s  lungs  seem  unable  to  inhale  the  proper 
quantity  of  ozone,  and  everybody  is  full  of  lassi- 
tude and  weariness. 

The  river  was  a never  failing  source  of  interest 
at  this  time.  Great  rafts  of  logs  from  the  moun- 
tains in  the  interior,  flashed  past  every  day  on 
their  way  to  the  port.  Sometimes  in  the  night 


The  Ferries 


203 


these  would  be  torn  from  their  moorings  (for 
they  were  always  floated  inshore  out  of  the  cur- 
rent, and  anchored  for  the  night)  on  broken  or 
submerged  rocks,  with  the  force  of  wind  and 
current.  Then  the  wreckers  were  abroad,  and 
making  night  hideous  with  excited  yells,  would 
carry  off  a rich  harvest  of  timber.  It  was  excit- 
ing, too,  to  watch  the  ferries.  The  wide,  flat- 
bottomed,  leaky  boats,  propelled  and  guided  by 
two  or  three  men  who  stood  paddling  at  prow 
and  stern,  were  loaded  down  almost  to  the 
water’s  edge  with  oxen,  ponies,  travelling  chairs 
and  jimkoons,  all  standing  crowded  together  as 
closely  as  possible. 

To  make  the  point  desired  on  the  opposite 
shore  they  must  paddle  up  in  the  quiet  water  and 
get  the  back  current  on  the  Wons’  side,  a long 
distance  above  the  landing ; then  boldly  striking 
across,  still  paddling  up,  fighting  the  current 
desperately,  they  whirled  down  and  across  and 
usually  landed  fairly  near  the  point,  opposite  that 
from  which  they  started.  The  river  was  no 
longer  beautiful.  It  was  brown  with  an  ugly 
foam  like  a maddened  beast  of  prey,  and  many 
a human  life  was  sacrificed  to  its  rage  each  year. 

Here  are  some  paragraphs  from  Mrs.  Won’s 
diary  written  there  one  year.  March  20,  19 — . 
I have  been  very  ill  and  cannot  yet  walk  alone 
across  the  room,  but  thinking  the  quiet,  fresh  air 
and  sunshine  down  here  would  hasten  recovery, 


204  The  Rainy  Season 

they  brought  me  here  yesterday.  Early  this 
morning  I was  wrapped  in  rugs  and  quilts,  carried 
out  to  the  lawn  on  my  long  cane  chair,  and  set 
directly  in  the  sun.  How  delicious  the  odours 
of  spring ! The  birds  are  so  busy.  I saw  a red- 
breast, and  heard  a lark  sing.  The  yellow 
forsythias  are  almost  in  bloom. 

March  25th.  It  was  very  sweet  all  day  long 
in  the  sun,  for  when  the  shadows  fall  I am  moved 
to  a sunny  place,  so  sometimes  I face  the  river, 
sometimes  the  hills  at  the  back  so  delightfully 
green  with  the  tender  shades  of  infant 
spring. 

April  15th.  The  canaries  (as  the  Koreans  call 
forsythias)  have  been  in  bloom  some  time  and 
are  gorgeous.  There  is  a little  arbour  over  the 
path  leading  down  to  the  river  garden  which  is 
covered  with  these  golden  blossoms. 

Sometimes  I wonder  as  I lie  out  there  all  day 
in  the  heart  of  all  that  beauty,  whether  it  is 
sweeter  than  under  the  warm  sod,  not  shut  away 
at  all,  but  right  near  the  very  heart  of  all  life,  at 
the  beginnings  of  everything,  where  God  works 
in  the  dark  out  to  the  light.  The  dark  that  is  so 
soothing  and  restful,  and  clasps  one  so  tenderly 
and  closely.  There  never  can  be  any  real  dark- 
ness or  death  where  He  is.  Only  apart  from 
Him  is  coldness,  darkness  and  death. 

Sometimes  the  life  in  one  shrinks  and  shudders 
away  from  the  change  that  is  called  death,  life 


205 


In  May-Time 

here  is  so  inexpressibly  full  and  sweet,  yet  one 
cannot  live  out  in  the  resurrections  of  spring 
where  “every  clod  feels  a stir  of  night,”  for 
weeks,  and  fear  the  brief  season  of  gloom. 

There  are  the  daintiest  fleecy  clouds,  dancing 
over  the  daintiest  blue  sky,  all  reflected  in  the 
river,  which  lies  asleep.  There  are  new  leaves 
shining,  fairly  laughing  with  delight  to  have  got 
out  at  last,  there  is  a gentle  whispering  in  the 
pines,  there  is  the  odour  of  balsam  everywhere, 
and  the  apricots,  bush  cherries  and  many  others 
are  in  full  bloom. 

May  20th.  All  the  fruit  blossoms  are  out. 
The  land  is  aglow  with  them,  making  patches  of 
delicious  colour  in  the  hillsides  and  in  the  valleys. 
One  can  hardly  bear  the  delight  of  it ; like  the 
fairy  coachman  one  feels  one’s  heart  bands  burst- 
ing with  joy.  The  white  lilacs  are  making  the 
whole  garden  sweet,  and  the  first  yellow  roses 
are  beginning  their  reign  in  a burst  of  glory. 
Harry  is  by  the  river  all  day,  when  not  at 
lessons,  which  it  seems  a cruel  mockery  to  im- 
pose. In  the  midst  of  all  this,  who  could  think 
of  fractions,  geography  and  grammar;  all  nature 
doing  her  best  to  hypnotize  him  ? I believe  we 
make  our  children  study  at  too  early  an  age,  and 
too  many  hours.  I have  planned  that  Harry 
shall  have  an  hour  before  breakfast,  two  between 
nine  and  eleven,  and  one  between  two  and  three, 
no  more  at  all.  It  always  seems  to  me  that  the 


2o6  The  Rainy  Season 

plea  of  the  Lotus  Eaters  is  a special  plea  for  the 
children, 

“ Lo  in  the  middle  of  the  wood 
The  folded  leaf  is  wooed  from  out  the  bud, 

With  winds  upon  the  branch,  and  there 

Grows  green  and  broad  and  knows  no  care 

Sun  steeped  at  noon  and  in  the  moon  nightly  dew  fed. 

All  things  have  rest,  we  only  toil  who  are  the  first  of  things 
And  make  perpetual  moan. 

Still  from  one  labour  to  another  thrown, 

Nor  ever  fold  our  wings,  or  steep  our  brows  in  slumber’s  holy 
balm 

Nor  hearken  what  the  inner  spirit  sings.” 


June  20th.  Chemulpo. 

I have  been  worse  and  now  we  are  to  take  a 
little  sea  trip  to  Japan  and  Vladivostok. 

We  came  down  here  so  easily  and  delightfully. 
They  carried  me  down  the  hill  to  the  river,  and 
there  was  a picturesque  boat  with  a quaint  old 
boatman  waiting  on  the  sands.  They  placed  me 
in  it,  reclining  chair  and  all,  and  then  we  slid  down 
the  golden  waters,  tinted  with  sunset,  sometimes 
between  green  fields  and  busy,  noisy  villages, 
sometimes  between  high  rocks,  covered  with 
foliage  and  decked  with  moss.  Sometimes  we 
passed  other  craft,  and  the  sailors  peered  curiously 
at  our  party  and  wondered  if  I were  dead  and 
being  carried  to  some  old  family  burial-place. 

When  we  reached  the  little  steamer  I was 
lifted  on  board  and  so  came  safely  on. 

July  2d.  We  have  had  our  trip  to  Vladivostok, 


At  Vladivostok 


207 


and  are  on  our  way  back.  I was  too  ill  to  go  on 
shore  there,  but  from  the  steamer  it  wears  an  un- 
gracious aspect,  something  like  one  of  our  raw 
western  towns.  The  whole  harbour  is  bristling 
in  fortifications.  There  are  no  English  hotels 
or  boarding-places  there  (1897),  and  the  com- 
mercial agents  who  came  up  with  us,  returned  in 
dismay  to  the  ship  for  meals,  saying  they  could 
get  nothing  but  black  bread,  black  bean  soup, 
raw  ham  and  vodke  at  the  Russian  places.* 

We  w'ere  proud  and  delighted  to  see  American 
vessels  lying  in  the  harbour,  with  American  rail- 
road iron,  American  nails,  American  flour.  I 
wanted  to  shake  hands  with  that  flour.  We 
were  told  that  immense  quantities  of  American 
goods  are  imported  there.  It  was  a new  and 
decidedly  pleasant  experience,  too,  to  see  Amer- 
ican commercial  travellers  so  far  out  there  in  the 
East.  We  are  told  that  the  climate  is  remark- 
ably dry  and  bracing.  The  atmosphere  is  clear 
as  crystal.  Still  we  were  glad  enough  to  get 
aw’ay. 

July  1 2th.  We  are  home  again,  and,  thank 
God,  all  well  and  happy  and  busy. 

No  one  who  has  a garden  can  live  an  idle  life, 
and  the  Wons  were  kept  busy,  fighting  enemies. 
The  ants  and  the  birds  were  their  allies,  but  for 


* Since  then  it  is  the  custom  for  officials  to  force  passengers  to  go 
ashore  and  eat  and  sleep  even  though  they  stay  only  twenty-four 
hours. 


2o8 


The  Rainy  Season 

the  rest  they  all  seemed  bent  on  the  destruction 
of  everything  beautiful  or  useful  in  nature.  All 
sorts  of  vermin  attacked  the  trees,  and  borers 
crawled  into  their  hearts.  When  fruit  ripened 
even  the  birds  turned  traitors  and  helped  the 
great  hornets  to  devour  it.  As  for  the  grape- 
vines, from  early  spring  till  the  last  grape  was 
bagged,  it  was  one  battle  for  existence. 

The  roses,  too,  were  attacked  by  aphides, 
caterpillars,  and  worst  of  all  cruel  rose  beetles 
who  waited  till  the  bud  was  ready  to  burst  into 
glowing  beauty,  and  then  relentlessly  ate  out  its 
very  heart.  There  was  an  old  Korean  installed 
as  gardener,  who  had  been  for  years  according 
to  his  lights  a faithful  chair  coolie,  and  now  that 
he  was  too  old  for  that,  the  Wons  had  given  him 
a home  in  the  cottage,  and  the  duty  of  caring  for 
their  garden.  But  the  garden  after  the  fashion 
of  such  was  exacting,  and  Kim  was  old  and  a 
little  lazy,  so  a great  deal  of  help  was  needed, 
and  often  the  enemy  got  a long,  long  start.  Kim 
was  not  a Christian  ; he  was  too  fond  of  his  jug 
for  that ; but  he  was  an  ardent  upholder  of  the 
cause,  distributed  tracts  on  occasion,  and  advised 
the  pastor  that  workers  or  teachers  ought  to  be 
sent  to  this  or  that  locality,  “since  we  have  no 
believers  there.”  He  had  been  heard  to  recom- 
mend Christianity,  too,  very  zealously  to  non- 
believers, and  would  no  doubt  have  been  an 
ardent  church  member,  had  it  been  com- 


Defending  the  Garden  209 

patible  with  chicken  stealing  and  deep  pota- 
tions. 

However,  the  Wons  liked  him  for  never  pre- 
tending to  believe  for  the  sake  of  gaining  favour, 
as  I am  sorry  to  say  some  servants  do,  and  they 
greatly  appreciated  his  real  devotion  to  them  and 
their  interests.  Like  the  cook  he  was  regarded 
by  all,  himself  included,  as  a member  of  the 
family,  to  be  separated  from  them  only  by  death. 

His  wages  in  addition  to  his  house  and  field, 
with  wood  from  the  place,  were  three  dollars  a 
month.  With  this  rather  unreliable  assistant,  the 
Wons  carried  on  the  war.  They  often  wondered 
to  what  purpose  all  these  evil  creatures  existed, 
and  were  strongly  inclined  to  believe  that  since 
their  only  aim  was  destruction  of  that  which  was 
good,  that  they  were  of  the  devil,  or  at  any  rate 
like  disease,  the  result  of  sin.  Nevertheless  they 
realized  that  God  was  using  them  to  work  out  a 
greater  good,  teaching  His  people  industry,  forti- 
tude and  patience. 

On  one  side  of  them,  almost  at  their  door,  lay 
ten  or  twenty  acres  of  pine  woods,  through  which 
flowed  a little  brook,  “ which  to  the  sleeping 
woods  all  night  sang  its  gentle  tune.” 

Its  banks  were  draped  with  ferns  and  wild 
flowers,  and  after  the  rains  it  danced  and  brawled 
along  in  a terribly  noisy  fashion.  The  Korean 
women  used  to  come  here  with  their  washing, 
pounding  it  on  stones  in  the  crystal  water,  and 


210  The  Rainy  Season 

gossipping  comfortably  all  the  while.  Here 
Harry  Won  and  the  little  Appletons  and  the 
Markhams  loved  to  play,  wading  in  the  water, 
building  dams,  sailing  tiny  boats,  playing  Indian 
and  robbers  among  the  trees,  or  house  in  some 
shady,  ferny  retreat.  There  are  few  harmful 
creatures  in  these  woods  for  children  to  fear. 
Most  of  the  snakes  are  innocuous  (poisonous 
ones  being  extremely  rare),  and  here  and  there 
at  long  intervals  are  seen  one  or  two  centipedes, 
otherwise  I know  of  nothing  worse  than  wasps 
and  hornets.  Poor  Harry  plunged  a hapless  little 
bare  leg  into  a nest  of  these  creatures  one  day, 
and  had  to  run  for  his  life,  screaming  lustily  all 
the  way,  not  escaping  either,  without  severe 
punishment  from  the  furious  insects.  One  year 
when  the  family  went  to  the  river  in  July,  they 
found  the  hornets  had  utilized  the  space  between 
the  parlour  window  and  the  outside  wooden  shut- 
ter for  a hive.  There  from  the  inside  they  had  a 
grand  chance  to  peep  into  their  nursery  and  see 
them  feeding  their  babies  and  view  all  their  private 
household  affairs.  Afterwards  the  Koreans  came 
at  night  with  torches  and  boldly  tore  dowm  the 
shutter,  the  blinded  and  crazed  insects  flying 
directly  into  the  blaze  and  destruction. 

In  another  direction  more  than  a mile  away, 
was  a far  wilder,  and  correspondingly  more 
delightful  place.  Here  were  great,  silent,  stately 
pine  woods,  high  hills  on  either  side,  great  rocks 


The  Picnic  Place 


2 1 1 


and  boulders,  and  a larger  and  far  more  beautiful 
stream,  running  on  over  the  most  tempting  golden 
sands.  The  trees  threw  their  shadows  across  it, 
and  little  flecks  of  light  caressed  its  bosom,  like 
jewels  on  the  neck  of  a fair  girl.  In  places,  before 
some  barrier,  it  lay  in  cool,  deep  pools,  where  a 
man  could  stand  waist  deep,  and  thence  it  poured, 
over  the  mossy  stones,  with  the  most  delightful 
sound  in  the  world  to  the  ears  of  a child  on  a 
summer  day. 

This  was  the  favourite  spot  for  picnics,  but  the 
time  was  always  too  short,  alas ! for  as  has  often 
been  said,  time  is  such  a contrary  old  cur- 
mudgeon, he  always  hurries  most  when  you 
want  him  to  dawdle ; but  if  you  have  a tooth- 
ache, dawdle  isn’t  the  word  ; for  it  is  my  belief  he 
stands  stock  still  at  all  such  times. 

When  the  rains  were  over,  was  the  time  for 
picnics,  and  when  the  rains  were  over,  if  they 
didn’t  stay  too  long,  came  Harry’s  birthday  ; 
when  the  rains  were  over,  the  red  peppers  began 
to  blaze  in  great  scarlet  patches  on  the  house- 
tops ; when  the  rains  were  over,  came  the  August 
lilies.  The  Wons  had  masses  of  them  every- 
where in  their  garden. 

They  belong  to  the  moon,  you  know,  and 
stand  all  night  offering  incense  at  her  altar.  In 
the  morning  they  close  their  pure  petals  and 
retire  from  the  free  gaze  of  the  bold  sun. 

I believe  nothing  could  be  more  beautiful  than 


2 1 2 The  Rainy  Season 

those  nights  at  The  Firs  when  the  moon  and  the 
lilies  were  together.  Below,  lay  the  river  more 
lovely  than  ever,  enchanted  by  her  goddess  into 
a sheet  of  silver ; beyond,  were  the  hills  and 
mountains,  here  in  soft  but  exquisite  radiance, 
there  in  mysterious  shadows.  Around  the  house 
lay  the  garden,  hushed,  perfumed,  its  beauty  en- 
hanced by  the  soft  light  that  revealed  only  what 
was  charming  and  left  in  kind  obscurity,  all  that 
was  defacing  and  unlovely.  And  the  lilies,  oh, 
the  lilies  ! shining  in  so  dazzling  a whiteness,  that 
in  contrast  with  the  gloom,  they  were  fairl}^ 
radiant,  “ as  no  fuller  on  earth  can  white  them.” 
We  never  could  look  long,  without  turning 
away  a moment  to  catch  our  breath. 

“ And  to  think  He  made  it  all  to  please  us  ! ” 

“ If  this,  so  defaced  by  aeons  of  sin,  and  the 
curse  of  evil,  is  so  glorious,  what  will  be  the 
‘ place’  He  has  gone  to  prepare  ? ” 

“ Sure  we  must  be  immortal  to  bear  more 
beauty  than  this,”  were  the  thoughts  that  welled 
up  in  our  minds.  The  place  seemed  a lofty 
sanctuary,  and  what  was  fitting  but  to  praise  and 
adore  the  Almighty  Creator  ? 

Sometimes,  tempted  by  the  children,  they 
would  leave  the  lilies  and  the  garden,  and  take  a 
Korean  sailboat  up  the  river  on  these  glorious 
nights ; everybody  went,  the  very  littlest  were  not 
refused,  and  a basket  of  refreshments  in  some 
form  was  the  necessary  concomitant,  of  course,  gay 


Saying  Good-Bye 


213 


songs  floated  out  on  the  air,  and  everybody  voted 
it  a fine  time.  Yet  when  they  were  safely  back 
on  the  quiet  veranda,  under  the  quiet  sky,  with 
the  incense  breathing  lilies  around  them,  they 
looked  at  each  other  in  wonder  and  said,  “ Why 
did  we  go  away,  how  could  we  do  it?”  No 
one  could  answer,  the  problem  remained  un- 
solved. 

When  the  bright,  dry,  sweet  September  days 
were  fully  on,  they  knew  they  must  say  good- 
bye to  the  river,  and  go  back  to  the  dirty  city, 
and  clean  house  in  preparation  for  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  mission.  O how  hard  it  was  to 
say  good-bye.  Harry  often  longed  to  lie  down 
on  dear  mother  earth’s  bosom  and  kiss  his  fare- 
wells. He  was  (no  wonder)  born  sentimental, 
and  never  could  love  moderately,  calmly  and 
sedately. 

The  last  fond  adieu  had  to  be  said  to  every- 
thing, last  of  all  down  among  the  rocks  at  the 
river,  rapt  in  the  glow,  the  purple  veil,  the  still- 
ness, all  that  were  God’s  signals  and  His  voices, 
and  then  back  to  a stern  fight  with  sin,  deceit, 
disease  and  the  devil,  for  ten  long,  strenuous 
months.  They  had  all  played  and  rested  quite 
long  enough,  and  sad  though  their  farewells  to 
the  river,  eagerly  they  returned  to  the  work, 
and  dear  as  the  joys  that  nature’s  beauty  brings, 
there  are  dearer  and  higher,  far  nobler  and  more 
inspiring,  in  opening  the  light  of  truth  into  the 


214 


The  Rainy  Season 

dark,  sad  places.  At  least  the  elders  thought  so  ; 
but  as  for  Harry  he  regretted  the  river  all  winter, 
till  it  was  time  to  begin  to  anticipate  it  for  next 


summer. 


X 


BOY  HUSBANDS 

Soon  after  they  returned  to  the  city  after  that 
first  summer,  there  was  great  excitement  and 
commotion  in  the  poor  little  country  called 
Morning  Calm. 

Terrible  things  happened.  The  queen  was 
killed,  and  all  her  friends  fled  away,  frightened, 
as  well  they  might  be,  except  the  king,  who  was 
kept  a prisoner  by  the  party  in  power  ; for  in 
Korean  politics,  to  hold  the  king  is  something 
like  holding  the  queen  in  a game  of  chess,  only 
even  more  important.  There  was  much  going 
back  and  forth  to  the  palace  of  foreign  ministers, 
and  of  missionaries,  who  were  sometimes  asked 
to  interpret,  and  sometimes  to  watch  with  His 
Majesty  at  night,  for  he  was  in  the  power  of 
cruel  and  treacherous  men,  and  knew  not  what 
might  be  done.  So  the  Captain,  who  was  just 
as  ready  and  glad  to  help  a king,  as  any  one 
else,  in  any  humble  way  in  his  power,  was  go- 
ing or  coming  in  one  or  other  of  these  capac- 
ities pretty  often. 

There  were  insurrections  and  riots,  and  upris- 
ings in  the  country,  for  nobody  liked  the  bad 
government,  and  unruly  people  took  advantage 

215 


2i6  Boy  Husbands 

of  it  all,  to  make  things  as  bad  as  possible  every- 
where. By  and  by,  after  matters  had  gone  on 
from  bad  to  worse  for  many  months,  the  king 
escaped  to  the  Russian  Legation,  and  then  for  a 
little  while  there  was  still  more  trouble,  for  old 
scores  had  to  be  paid,  and  the  angry  people 
wanted  at  once  to  wreak  vengeance  on  the  bad 
rulers,  and  proclaim  their  loyalty  to  the  king. 
So  there  were  more  furious  mobs,  more  trials 
and  executions,  more  runnings  away  of  people 
who  belonged  to  the  wrong  party.  It  was  a 
pitiful  condition  of  things.  More  pitiful  still  was 
the  state  of  the  poor  country  folks,  who  were  op- 
pressed and  robbed  by  every  party,  and  insur- 
rectionists too,  with  no  peace  or  safety  in  this 
world,  or  hope  in  the  world  to  come.  But 
through  all  the  turmoil,  the  Wons  were  perfectly 
safe  under  the  protection  of  God  who  had  further 
use  for  them.  The  folds  of  dear  Old  Glory 
waved  majestically  above  them,  and  had  a good 
deal  to  do  with  their  safety  too,  in  a secondary 
way.  I can  assure  you  that  American  boys  in 
the  far  East  realize  very  fully  what  it  means  to 
be  an  American,  in  very  many  ways,  and  every 
day  of  their  lives,  as  boys  who  never  have  left 
home  cannot  possibly  do.  First  of  all  they  see 
the  contrast  between  their  own  country  and  these 
eastern  ones,  in  freedom,  wise  laws,  just,  strong 
government,  comfort  and  luxuries  of  life,  protec- 
tion from  diseases  which  are  exceptional  in 


217 


An  Expatriated  Boy 

America,  are  here  great  epidemics,  slaying  their 
thousands,  and  the  blessings  of  inspiring  re- 
ligion and  enlightening  education,  compared 
with  the  ignorance  and  hopelessness  of  the 
East. 

Then  they  realize  as  at  home  they  never  can, 
the  power  and  dignity  of  that  government  whose 
long  arm  reaches  round  the  world  and  guards 
its  children,  that  government  which  other  nations 
fear,  admire  and  respect. 

And  do  you  think  they  don’t  love  her  because 
they  were  not  born  on  her  soil  ? Better  not  tell 
them  so.  Of  the  soil,  one  with  every  child  born 
there  of  American  parents,  they  love  it,  I verily 
believe,  more  fondly,  more  proudly,  with  a more 
enlightened  mind  as  to  wherefore,  and  with  more 
wherefore,  than  most  boys  at  home. 

If  you  could  have  seen  how  Harry  adored  his 
flag,  how  he  kept  the  Fourth  of  July,  how  he 
pored  over  the  history  of  his  country^  how,  be- 
fore he  was  twelve  years  old,  he  had  gone 
through  a primary  United  States  school  history 
twice,  and  advanced  one  thrice,  another  by  a 
different  author  twice.  Abbot’s  “Lives  of  the 
Presidents’’  thrice,  “ The  Blue  Jackets  of  1812  ’’ 
and  “ Boys  of  ’76  ’’  each  at  least  three  times,  and 
I know  not  what  host  of  other  historical  stories  ; 
if  you  had  seen  his  scrap-book  full  of  Spanish 
War  notes  and  pictures,  if  you  had  questioned 
him  and  found  how  perfectly  he  knew  every 


2i8  Boy  Husbands 

warship,  cruiser,  gunboat  and  what  not  in  the 
navy,  past  and  present,  and  how  well  he  was  in- 
formed as  to  the  feats  of  every  great  general  and 
admiral,  you  would  have  seen  that  an  American 
boy  in  the  far  East  was  no  less  a patriot  for 
that,  and  I can  assure  you  that  Harry’s  patriot- 
ism was  only  a sample  of  what  hundreds  of  other 
American  boys,  similarly  situated,  feel.  Yet 
nearly  every  stranger  who  meets  these  boys  on 
their  own  shores,  when  it  is  discovered  they  have 
been  born  abroad,  at  once  taunts  them  with  the 
slur,  “ Then  you  never  can  be  president.” 
This  is  thoughtless,  unkind  and  untrue.  Not 
that  most  of  them  aspire  to  that  high  honour, 
but  it  is  casting  a slight  on  their  nationality,  and 
the  perfect  character  of  their  citizenship,  and  it  is 
untrue,  because  a special  law  provides  for  and 
guards  the  rights  and  privileges  of  the  sons  of 
American  foreign  ministers,  missionaries  and 
others,  who  are  residing  for  an  indefinite  time  in 
foreign  lands. 

Master  Harry  claimed  seven  Revolutionary 
soldiers  as  direct  ancestors,  and  counted  back 
among  the  New  York  Hollanders  on  one  side, 
and  the  New  England  Puritans  on  the  other,  to 
the  Mayflower  and  the  first  settlement  of  the 
country,  and  so  it  caused  a throb  of  indignation 
at  his  youthful  heart  to  have  either  his  patriotism 
or  his  citizenship  impeached. 

When  state  affairs  had  quieted,  and  the 


219 


The  Boy  and  the  Emperor 

emperor  was  again  in  his  own  palace,  and  his 
mind  at  ease,  he  used  often  to  send  for  Harry’s 
papa,  as  a friend  tried  and  trusted,  and  on  one 
or  two  occasions  asked  that  the  boy  might  be 
brought  also. 

Once  (Harry  was  not  yet  six  please  remember 
in  excuse)  when  the  emperor,  as  he  had  now  be- 
come, with  great  condescension  rose  to  greet 
the  missionary,  and  stood  a moment  with  him, 
the  thoughtless  little  youngster  ran  and  climbed 
into  the  throne ! His  horrified  father  snatched 
him  off  in  great  shame,  but  the  emperor,  who  is 
all  kindness,  gentleness  and  generosity  towards 
his  friends,  would  not  allow  the  naughty  fellow 
to  yield  the  chair,  but  stooped  down  before  him, 
petting,  comforting  and  chatting  with  him  for 
some  moments.  He  was  too  young  to  realize 
how  much  this  meant  to  Koreans ; but  as  he 
grew  older  he  used  to  say,  with  a laugh,  that 
though  he  could  never  be  president,  according 
to  some  folk,  he  at  least  had  occupied  a throne. 

This  behaviour,  which  was  really  only  igno- 
rance and  innocence,  was  more  than  equalled  by 
the  nine  year  old  boy  of  another  American,  who 
on  the  occasion  of  being  at  the  palace  through 
invitation,  was  asked  his  age  by  the  crown 
prince.  Now  as  I have  said  before,  the  endings 
of  Korean  verbs  are  all  important,  and  not  only 
special  endings  must  be  used  for  royalty  and 
people  far  above  one,  but  entirely  different  words. 


220 


Boy  Husbands 


For  instance  one  would  ask  a small  child  or  a 
person  greatly  inferior,  his  age,  by  the  words, 
“met  sal  inya?”  to  one  barely  an  equal  we 
would  say,  “nahi  metchio?”  and  to  one  still 
higher  they  would  say,  “Younsay  Elmasio?” 
But  a child  should  never  ask  a prince  his  age  at 
all,  nor  would  most  Americans  of  mature  years 
presume  so  far.  But  when  the  crown  prince 
asked  this  boy  his  age,  he  replied  with  guileless 
simplicity,  “Nine.  How  old  are  you?”  using 
“ met  sal  inya  ! ” 

A dead  silence  followed.  When  the  boy  told 
his  mother,  she  asked  him  all  aghast  what  the 
prince  did.  “ O he  just  turned  round  and 
walked  away,  and  never  told  me,”  was  the 
reply. 

Little  did  he  realize  that  it  was  due  to  Old 
Glory  in  part,  as  a result  of  the  kindness  and 
good  feeling  of  the  royal  family  for  Americans, 
for  that  boy’s  father  in  particular,  and  in  part 
their  fondness,  and  forbearance  towards  all  chil- 
dren, that  the  young  man  was  not  consumed  on 
the  spot. 

Harry  was  invited  to  the  palace  on  many  oc- 
casions, but  never  repeated  such  mortifying 
pranks,  learning,  as  he  grew  older,  to  prize 
highly  the  condescension  shown  him  and  the 
kind  friendship  of  the  emperor.  Sometimes 
they  were  invited  to  skate  on  the  royal  lotus 
pond,  and  sometimes  permitted  to  picnic  in  the 


KOREAN  THRONE. 


On  Account  oi  Old  Crlory  221 

beautiful  royal  park ; sometimes  tableaus  and 
mimes,  centuries  old,  were  enacted  for  the  bene- 
fit of  one  or  other  of  these  American  children,  at 
royal  audiences. 

Harry,  however,  was  far  prouder  of  a military 
salute  bestowed  on  his  mamma  and  himself  than 
of  all  the  royal  audiences.  One  day  when  they 
were  returning  from  a distant  part  of  the  town 
in  a sedan  chair,  they  found  that  every  avenue 
leading  into  their  street  which  was  also  that  of 
the  new  palace,  was  closed  by  close  ranks  of 
royal  guards,  to  the  number  of  several  hundreds. 
His  Majesty  was  expected  forth  in  a few  mo- 
ments, special  earth  had  been  scattered  along 
the  road,  no  profane  foot  must  tread  there,  no 
other  chair  or  person  must  be  permitted  in  the 
way. 

But  it  was  late,  the  king  might  delay  long ; 
scarcely  hoping  to  be  heard,  they  begged  to  be 
permitted  to  proceed,  promising  to  hurry  and 
be  out  of  the  way  before  the  royal  party  should 
appear.  Very  graciously  the  officer  on  guard 
consented,  all  on  account  of  Old  Glory,  and  the 
coolies  fairly  ran  along  the  road,  between  the 
long  lines  of  soldiers,  all,  officers  and  men,  salut- 
ing in  proper  military  fashion  as  they  passed. 
All  this  ceremony  for  them  was,  to  Harry,  the 
most  signal  honour  of  his  life.  It  was  a proud 
day  for  the  martially  inclined  little  American. 

Although  Harry  had  a very  delightful  little 


22  2 Boy  Husbands 

company  of  American,  Canadian  and  English 
playfellows,  he  had  his  Korean  friends,  too,  and 
among  the  schoolboys  was  one  whom  in  his  early 
years,  before  he  could  yet  pronounce  plainly,  he 
called  his  brozher  (brother),  and  whom  the  rest 
of  us  called  “ the  little  married  man,” 

Though  twelve  years  old,  he  was  not  taller 
than  most  boys  in  America  of  seven  or  eight, 
but  his  hair  was  put  up  in  a tight  knot  on  top  of 
his  head,  the  short  hairs  all  neatly  bound  in  a 
man  gam. 

He  had  not  then  yet  donned  the  black  hat  like 
all  married  men,  but  a great  wide,  heavy  straw 
one,  which  shielded  his  face.  He  wore,  too,  a 
coat  of  grass  cloth,  with  a rope  around  his  waist, 
for  little  married  man  had  lost  his  father,  when 
the  cholera  raged  so  terribly  the  previous  sum- 
mer, and  he  w^as  in  mourning. 

This  boy’s  father  had  been  a Christian,  a man 
of  gentlemanly  birth,  a teacher  and  literary 
helper  of  Harry’s  father  and  an  assistant  in 
translating  religious  literature  into  Korean. 

When  the  cholera  struck  him  down  so  sud- 
denly, he  left  a widow,  this  one  boy  and  a little 
daughter. 

So  now  poor  “ married  man  ” had  become  the 
head  of  the  family,  in  name,  though  I have  a 
conviction  that  his  Amonni  was  the  real  man  in 
resourcefulness,  energy  and  ability  to  manage, 
and  was  so  even  before  her  husband’s  death. 


Little  “Married  Man”  223 

Many  a Korean  woman  does  that,  however,  and 
they  are  all  quite  used  to  it. 

When  his  helper  died,  Harry’s  papa  promised 
to  be  a father  to  the  little  man,  so  far  as  he 
could,  so  he  had  placed  him  in  a mission  school, 
and  nearly  every  day  he  came  to  visit  Harry. 

The  latter  had  learned  only  a very  little  Korean 
and  though  they  understood  very  little  of  each 
other’s  words  they  got  on  finely  and  compre- 
hended each  other’s  meaning  quite  well. 

But  what  a difference  there  was  between  them. 
What  an  amount  of  matters  that  were  every-day 
affairs  to  Harry,  which  married  man  never 
dreamed  of,  and  on  the  other  hand,  what  an  old 
man,  ages  old,  was  the  Korean  compared  with 
the  little  American ; his  head  crammed  full  of  all 
sorts  of  queer  and  foolish  superstitions  and  fables, 
hundreds  of  Chinese  characters,  and  knowledge 
of  matters  far  beyond  his  years.  Both  born  in 
Korea,  but  one  in  the  sunlight,  and  constantly 
growing,  unfolding,  reaching  up  more  and  more 
in  it,  the  other  in  a dark  and  musty  place,  con- 
fined, shut  in,  away  from  the  soul’s  sweet  light 
and  air,  so  that  his  eyes  were  blind  and  his  nature 
narrow,  shallow  and  weak. 

Some  time  before  his  father  died  he  had  been 
married  with  ceremonies  which  to  Americans  are 
quite  unique. 

Of  course  weddings  in  Korea  differ  according 
to  the  class  and  means  of  the  parties  as  much  as 


224  Husbands 

anywhere  else,  and  some  of  the  poorest  and  low- 
est just  announce  their  decision  to  be  husband 
and  wife,  to  their  acquaintances  in  a general  way, 
without  any  ceremony,  except  that  the  husband’s 
family  must  likely  pay  a few  bags  of  rice  for  the 
girl. 

But  Mr.  Yi’s  family  were  well  to  do,  with  an 
income  of  at  least  five  hundred  yen  a year  (for 
Mrs.  Yi  supplemented  her  husband’s  salary),  so 
there  was  quite  a wedding. 

First  of  all,  for  some  time  before,  the  family 
had  been  getting  the  feast  ready,  and  friends  and 
neighbours  came  in  to  help,  and  had  bread  making 
bees,  and  sewing  bees.  Loaves  and  loaves  of 
dock  were  made,  enough  to  fill  a small  room,  and 
were  locked  up  in  waiting  for  the  occasion. 
Many  pounds  of  vermicelli  were  manufactured 
on  the  spot  with  the  aid  of  an  old  clumsy  look- 
ing machine,  and  chickens,  eggs,  nuts,  fruit  and 
various  fancy  dishes  arranged  for.  The  bride- 
groom, of  course,  and  all  the  family,  too,  were 
provided  with  fine  new  clothes. 

At  the  bride’s  house  they  had  been  busy  for 
weeks  getting  her  trousseau  ready.  For  the 
wedding  day  there  was  a long  red  skirt  made  of 
the  soft  thin  native  silk,  and  a yellow  silk  jacket. 
A woman  whose  business  it  is  to  arrange  for 
weddings,  a regular  go-between,  had  settled  the 
contract  between  the  two  families,  and  all  the 
arrangements  for  the  wedding.  If  people  are 


The  Bridal  Attire 


225 


too  poor  to  have  their  own  things,  she  rents  them 
the  necessary  ornaments,  the  bride’s  chair,  the 
man’s  pony  and  court  dress,  and  everything,  in 
short,  that  is  needed. 

On  this  occasion  ever  and  ever  so  many  large, 
showy,  and  to  our  minds,  absurd  hairpins  and 
girdle  ornaments  were  worn.  The  bride’s  hair 
was  oiled  till  it  shone,  parted  and  combed  back 
as  tightly  as  possible,  and  was  shaved  a little 
around  the  forehead  to  make  a perfectly  regular 
outline.  Her  eyebrows,  too,  were  shaved  to  the 
finest  line  possible,  and  her  face  covered  thickly 
with  a white  paste  which,  when  dry,  gave  her  a 
corpse-like  pallour  ghastly  to  behold,  which  was 
rather  enhanced  than  otherwise,  by  the  vermilion, 
thickly  daubed  on  her  lips  and  also  on  each 
cheek,  in  a spot  about  the  size  of  a silver  quarter. 
It  is  bad  form  for  the  hands  to  be  seen  and  they 
were  covered  with  a piece  of  white  silk  draped 
over  them  as  she  held  them  clasped  in  front  of 
her. 

Either  on  the  day  of  the  wedding  or  one  day 
before,  servants  are  usually  sent  to  the  bride’s 
future  home  with  her  trousseau.  When  the  time 
for  the  ceremony  was  at  hand,  the  bridegroom 
who  had  hired  for  the  occasion  a court  dress  and 
hat  (such  as  only  high  officials  wear  at  royal 
audiences),  mounted  a pony  with  a queer,  high, 
old-fashioned  saddle,  accompanied  by  two  men 
in  livery,  one  either  side  to  hold  him  on  his 


226  Boy  Husbands 

uncertain  seat ; a mapo  or  groom  went  before 
leading  the  pony,  and  another  attendant  followed 
carrying  a gigantic  umbrella  on  a long  pole,  to 
shade  the  hero  from  the  too  fervent  admiration 
of  the  sun.  Still  others  ran  behind,  constantly 
repeating  the  cry  “ keroot-cheeroo''  which  is  to 
signify  to  all  that  this  is  a very  great  man  and 
every  one  must  respectfully  step  aside.  He  was 
on  his  way  to  bring  home  his  wife. 

Upon  his  arrival,  she  entered  a native  carrying- 
chair,  the  finest  and  best  that  could  be  hired  or 
borrowed,  and  over  it  was  thrown  a leopard 
skin. 

The  chair  was  of  course  taken  to  the  house, 
and  she  entered  it  unseen.  The  procession  then 
proceeded  to  her  new  home.  First  of  all  walked 
a man  carrying  a live  goose,  all  tied  up  with 
ribbands  to  insure  long  life  and  wedded  bliss, 
then  servants  carrying  boxes  of  clothing  and 
food.  Very  often  there  are  women  servants  in 
these  processions  with  enormous  masses  of  false 
hair,  and  sometimes  there  are  little  flower  girls 
and  boys  carrying  huge  bouquets  bigger  than 
themselves  of  home-made  paper  flowers.  I can- 
not aver  they  were  present  at  this  wedding,  how- 
ever. The  bridegroom  followed  next  and  last  of 
all  the  chair  with  the  bride. 

When  they  arrived  at  home,  the  bride  had  to 
be  helped,  almost  lifted  from  it,  partly  because  it 
is  absolutely  essential  to  good  form  that  she 


The  Wedding  Ceremony  227 

shall  be  quite  as  inanimate,  and  as  nearly  like  a 
dead  woman  as  she  looks,  and  partly  because  her 
skirts  are  so  extremely  long  all  round,  her  hands 
so  hampered,  and  her  eyes  so  tightly  closed  that 
she  is  absolutely  helpless.  Two  women,  near 
relatives,  grasped  her  arms,  and  moved  her 
along,  step  by  step,  to  the  centre  of  the  room. 
Opposite  stood  the  bridegroom  with  a friend. 
The  girl’s  inert  little  figure  was  slightly  bent  for- 
ward by  her  attendants,  making  a low  obeisance 
several  times  ; then  the  bridegroom  returned  the 
compliment,  a cup  of  wine  was  then  placed  to  the 
lips  of  each,  first  to  the  groom,  then  the  bride. 
She,  however,  tasted  nothing  but  terror  and 
confusion,  for  this  is  an  awful  ordeal  for  a Korean 
child-wife,  who  has  been  secluded  closely  for 
years.  The  couple  then  bowed,  touching  their 
foreheads  to  the  ground  before  his  parents,  and 
after  before  hers  if  they  were  present,  though 
quite  often  the  bride’s  mother,  at  least,  is  not. 

A couple  of  the  little  low  Korean  tables  piled 
high  with  Korean  dainties  were  then  brought  in, 
for  the  newly  married  pair. 

After  this  ceremony  is  performed  and  the  bride 
has  retired  for  a little,  the  rest  of  the  company 
are  fed  with  all  that  nature  will  admit,  and  it  is 
miraculous  what  nature  can  do  at  times  under 
stress  of  circumstances. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  Koreans,  like  the  rest 
of  us,  consider  this  the  great  gala  day,  the 


228 


Boy  Husbands 

crowning  occasion  of  a man  or  woman’s  life. 
F"or  him,  from  the  putting  up  of  the  hair,  dates 
his  life  as  a man  among  men.  Old  things  are 
put  away,  all  things  are  become  new.  His  name 
is  changed,  he  has  assumed  manly  dignity  and 
responsibility. 

As  for  the  girl,  as  she  immediately  after  sub- 
sides into  maid  of  all  work,  and  is  not  supposed 
to  be  seen  or  heard  of  outside  the  family  again, 
it  is  certainly  the  one  occasion  when  she  is  of 
importance  and  brought  into  notice.  Like  the 
night  blooming  cereus,  she  blooms  out  in  glory 
only  for  a single  day ; towards  this  all  her  pre- 
vious life  has  been  tending,  back  to  it  in  all  her 
future  days  will  memory  turn. 

So  no  wonder  that  for  once  the  boy  is  allowed 
to  wear  palace  robes  and  go  like  a prince  for  his 
bride,  and  no  wonder  she  is  decked  out  in  all 
that  can  be  had. 

The  little  wife  is  not  expected  to  speak  at  all. 
It  is  a queer  notion  of  these  strange  people,  that 
it  is  more  modest,  womanly,  and  altogether  de- 
sirable that  a woman  should  be  silent.  This 
notion  is  carried  so  far,  that  it  is  really  next  to 
impossible  to  induce  a girl  to  answer  or  speak  a 
word  in  the  presence  of  a stranger  or  superior. 

Young  brides  sometimes  never  utter  a word 
for  months  after  their  marriage.  What  little 
married  man’s  wife  would  have  thought,  if  she 
could  have  been  made  to  comprehend,  which  I 


The  Fate  of  Brides 


229 


doubt,  what  the  new  woman  is,  or  if  she  could 
have  gone  to  America  and  attended  a women’s 
rights  convention,  or  if  she  had  been  informed 
how  some  young  women  of  the  western  world 
comport  themselves  in  public,  I do  not  pretend 
to  guess. 

For  her  part  she  was  learning  early  to  get  ac- 
customed to  her  mother-in-law,  and  because  she 
began  early,  she  would  learn  it  well.  She  would 
soon  come  to  love  her  and  be  a real  daughter 
instead  of  a foreign  factor  in  the  home.  And 
there  is  no  small  advantage  in  all  this,  either. 
Think  of  it,  young  American  matron,  no  Korean 
husband  can  tell  his  wife,  with  implied  regret  and 
reproach,  how  his  mother  used  to  cook  this  or 
that,  for  she  knows  it  all,  and  his  mother’s  ways 
will  be  the  wife’s,  so  that  to  the  end  of  his  life  he 
shall  eat  the  same  sodden  pies,  heavy  biscuit  and 
other  indigestibles,  exactly  as  he  ate  them  when 
a boy. 

This  little  wife,  however,  claims  no  rights ; she 
is  there  as  a busy  little  helper  with  her  hands  and 
her  needle,  and  when  many  years  hence  she  may 
be  blessed  some  day  with  woman’s  chief  and 
crowning  glory,  a child  of  her  own,  she  will  step 
up  in  her  little  world,  and  begin  to  be  a person 
of  importance. 

It  is  not  all  bad,  this  woman’s  life  in  Koiea, 
though  its  abuses  are  many.  It  is  hard  for  a 
little  girl  to  leave  her  mother’s  side,  to  be  totally, 


230  Boy  Husbands 

irremediably  under  the  heavy  hand  of  a mother- 
in-law,  yet  many  a western  girl  goes  to  boarding 
school  no  older ; the  mother-in-law  is  sometimes 
severe  and  cruel,  but  not  commonly  ; the  girl  is 
terribly  shut  in,  but  I wonder  if  that  is  worse  than 
the  unshielded,  unguided  publicity  of  the  lives  of 
many  of  our  girls. 

The  ignorance,  the  narrowness,  the  supersti- 
tion alas  are  unmitigated  and  terrible. 

“Where  no  vision  is  the  people  die,”  and  to 
the  Korean  girl  wife  there  is  no  vision,  no  future, 
no  life  above  the  animal,  no  hope  in  this  world 
for  aught  but  what  the  animals  share  in  common 
with  men,  warmth,  food,  ofTspring,  shelter.  This 
is  where  the  yoke  is  hard  and  the  burden  heavy. 
No  inspiration,  no  vision,  no  God  who  loves  and 
pities  them,  who  has  stooped  to  share  their  bur- 
dens, who  offers  peace,  rest  and  glory  beyond. 
For  this  the  smooth  young  faces  are  early 
seamed,  coarsened,  hardened  and  furrowed. 

Little  married  man’s  wife,  however,  had  no 
notion  of  the  weary  road  before  her  yet.  She 
was  just  a dear,  pretty  child,  with  a soft,  sweet, 
oval  face,  red  lips,  gentle,  dark  eyes,  and  a 
smooth,  clear,  olive  skin  that  any  Asiatic  would 
call  very  pretty  indeed.  She  w'as  treated  like  a 
daughter  and  sister,  and  soon  came  to  feel  she 
was  one.  Sometimes,  once  in  two  or  three 
months,  perhaps,  she  went  home  to  visit  her 
mother,  after  dark,  with  her  apron  all  over  her 


Bad  News 


231 


face  and  her  mother-in-law  or  an  old  woman 
servant  by  her  side.  Harry’s  Amonni  went  to 
see  them  all,  and  came  home  full  of  praises  for 
the  two  pretty  little  girls.  Poor  Harry  listened 
sadly  ; to  him  it  was  a strange,  sad  dispensation 
of  Providence  that  he  had  no  real  brothers  or 
sisters  or  wives  or  anything,  while  others  were  so 
well  supplied.  Some  time  after,  when  very  sick, 
he  talked  out  in  the  delirium  of  fever,  some  of 
the  troubles  that  worried  his  little  brain,  and  was 
heard  to  say  in  pathetic  accents,  “ My  brozher 
has  a wisch  (wife)  and  a shister,  but  I hazh  no 
one  but  myselch.” 

One  winter  when  Harry  wasn’t  quite  seven 
years  old,  came  a terrible  letter  from  America. 
Everybody  in  the  East  knows  what  such  letters 
are.  Agony  and  loss  stare  from  every  line. 
The  dearest  are  smitten,  or  have  gone,  and  all  so 
far,  far  off  beyond  those  thousands  of  intermi- 
nable miles,  over  which  only  bad  news  can  travel 
fast  enough. 

Mamma  was  sorely  needed  by  those  who  had 
a sacred  claim  upon  her,  and  her  heart  was  al- 
most bursting  with  an  agony  of  desire  to  go  to 
them,  “ but  of  course  it  was  impossible.”  Little 
by  little,  as  they  thought  and  prayed  and  con- 
sulted with  Christian  friends,  the  impossibilities 
began  to  disappear.  She  might  go,  but  it  must 
be  alone.  Often  it  happens  thus  in  people’s 
lives  that  both  duty  and  desire  pull  apparently 


232  Boy  Husbands 

equally  hard  in  opposite  directions.  Those  who 
have  experienced  that  conflict  over  some  matter 
of  life  and  death  like  this  one,  only,  can  guess 
how  torn  was  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Won. 

To  be  of  any  use,  she  must  go  quickly  ; at 
once.  But  at  once  she  could  not  bring  her  mind 
to  such  a parting,  so  she  went  on,  blindly  pre- 
paring, “ in  case  I should  go.”  “ In  case,”  trunks 
were  packed  and  locked,  tickets  to  Chemulpo 
bought,  and  household  affairs  settled  for  several 
months’  absence ; but  Harry’s  Amonni  had  not 
yet  decided  to  go  ; oh,  no  indeed.  Her  heart  was 
a great  deal  heavier  than  lead,  so  heavy  she 
could  scarcely  carry  it  round,  what  with  the 
weight  of  the  letter,  and  the  weight  of  leaving  the 
Captain  and  Harry,  I don’t  see  how  she  could 
carry  it  at  all.  Heavier  and  heavier,  each  mo- 
ment the  weight  increased,  and  oh,  how  time 
flew  ! At  last  the  coolies  stood  at  the  door,  and 
they  all  went  down  to  Chemulpo  “ in  case”  she 
should  at  length  conclude  to  go.  It  was  a wild- 
eyed, haggard  woman  who  walked  into  the 
Chinese  hotel  at  Chemulpo.  “ Why  Missis  Won  ! 
how  old  and  sick  you  look,”  said  the  old  steward 
who  knew  her  well.  But  she  hadn’t  decided  to 
go  yet,  oh,  no.  At  length  they  told  her  the 
steamer  was  in  the  bay  and  would  sail  in  the 
morning;  tickets  must  be  bought.  Oh,  how 
heavy,  how  fearfully  heavy  grew  that  sickening 
weight,  as  she  paced  back  and  forth,  trying  to  see 


Separation  233 

her  duty,  wondering  whether  it  was  not  a warped 
vision  of  duty  to  leave  the  husband  and  young 
child  for  months  in  a country  where  so  many 
dangers  threatened. 

Pastor  Won  had  mission  business  in  Fusan, 
and  he  and  Harry  were  going  there,  anyway,  so 
they  all  sailed  together  from  Chemulpo,  “ in 
case”  Mrs.  Won  should  fully  decide  at  Fusan  to 
go  to  America. 

Alas,  it  only  took  thirty  brief  hours  to  reach 
Fusan,  and  then  ! Then  she  knew,  as  she  had 
known  all  along,  that  she  was  going  to  cross  the 
Pacific,  and  the  North  American  continent,  leav- 
ing her  husband  and  little  delicate  child  on  the 
other  side.  She  stood  and  saw  the  little  boat  con- 
taining the  two  who  were  as  her  own  soul  put  off 
for  shore,  and  it  was  like  rending  asunder  soul 
and  body.  It  seemed  monstrous  and  impossible 
that  she  should  be  whirling  away  further  and  fur- 
ther, leaving  a widening  gulf  of  black  waters,  be- 
tween them  and  her,  who  had  never  been  parted. 
Many  a gay  mother,  who  thinks  nothing  of  leav- 
ing her  children,  while  she  flits  to  Europe  for  a 
pleasure  trip,  will  smile  at  this  tale  of  over- 
strained and  exaggerated  emotion,  for  a mere 
separation  of  a few  months.  But  Harry’s 
Amonni  had  only  that  one  lamb,  and  living  in 
that  far-off  heathen  land,  perhaps  one  cause  ; the 
little  family  had  ever  been  as  one  heart,  one  soul, 
and  seemed  bound  together  in  a peculiar  way. 


234 


Boy  Husbands 

The  dangers  from  terrible  disease  were  many, 
and,  well,  probably  the  principal  reason  was  that 
Mrs.  Won  was  a very  foolish  woman,  which  I 
have  never  denied. 

Now  as  she  strained  to  see  through  her  tears, 
she  beheld  the  little  fellow  put  his  head  on  his 
father’s  shoulder  and  sob ; she  saw  the  father 
stoop  and  whisper  something,  she  guessed  well 
enough  what,  for  up  came  the  brave  little  head,  a 
laugh  broke  through  the  tears,  and  gaily  rang  out 
the  good-byes  that  would  tremble,  and  furiously 
waved  the  little  handkerchief  heavy  with  tears. 
Mamma  must  not  see  him  cry,  it  would  make  it 
harder  for  her,  and  so  as  long  as  mamma  could 
see,  the  two  smiling  faces  were  looking  back,  and 
handkerchiefs  waving ; at  last  those  two,  and  the 
boat  could  be  distinguished  no  more,  just  a 
dreary  waste  of  cold,  dark,  sobbing  waters,  and  a 
dreary,  desolate  promontory.  Was  that  a hand- 
kerchief fluttering  up  there,  or  only  a sea  bird  ? 
Then  the  promontory,  too,  faded  away  in  mist 
and  night — very  dark  night — and  the  cruel 
steamer  was  hurrying  her  body  along,  far,  far 
from  the  shore  that  kept  her  heart. 

Poor  Harry  burst  into  violent  sobs  when  it  was 
no  longer  necessary  to  cheer  mamma,  and 
though  kind  friends  were  very  kind,  and  though 
he  had  many  happy  hours  in  play  with  his  little 
friends,  he  suffered  much.  Often  they  would 
find  the  little  fellow  hidden  behind  the  door,  or 


A Part  of  the  Price  235 

under  some  table  with  its  screening  cover  silently 
crying  with  loneliness  for  mother. 

The  mail,  to  be  sure,  brought  a rapid  succes- 
sion of  letters  and  little  gifts,  pictures  of  ships, 
pasteboard  soldiers,  valentines,  Easter  cards,  and 
pressed  flowers.  All  well  enough,  but  not  7nother. 

One  day  on  the  first  of  April,  the  children 
brought  him  a letter  which  they  said  was  from 
her ; how  his  little  heart  leaped,  but  it  was  only  a 
cruel  April  fool.  That  was  very  bitter  and  be- 
sides his  father  was  away  off  in  the  country,  preach- 
ing. Harry  had  to  have  the  measles  too,  of 
course,  and  altogether  it  was  a long,  dark,  dreary 
time  in  the  child’s  experience. 

But  after  a while  mother  came  back,  and  they 
prayed  they  need  never  be  parted  like  that  in 
this  world  again.  But  it  is  not  an  exceptional 
experience  with  missionaries.  Families  must  be 
divided,  and  tender  little  ones  must  be  torn  from 
the  mother’s  arms,  just  a part  of  the  price. 

What  a host  of  things  Harry’s  Amonni  brought 
back  with  her ! A great  packing  case,  besides  a 
whole  trunkful  that  grandparents,  tender  aunts, 
cousins  and  friends  had  sent  to  comfort  him. 
Clothes,  books,  toys,  everything  they  could  think 
of.  But  “ a man’s  life  consisteth  not  in  the  abun- 
dance of  the  things  that  he  possesseth,”  and 
Harr}^’s  joy  was  that  they  were  all  together  once 
more  in  the  home. 


XI 


TO  JAPAN  AND  CHINA 

Many  people  were  very  sick  one  year, 
for  new  streets  were  being  made  in  the  city, 
and  old  ones  widened,  the  Koreans  having 
imbibed  a spirit  of  “ kaiwha,”  hundreds  of 
native  houses  were  pulled  down,  the  accu- 
mulations of  centuries  of  disease  and  filth  were 
turned  over,  and  stirred  up,  and  the  atmosphere 
was  full  of  poisonous  dust,  so  that  people  who 
didn’t  have  a fever  of  some  kind  were  not  in 
the  fashion. 

The  Captain  and  little  son  were  both  in  it  very 
deep.  That  was  how  it  happened  that  the  mis- 
sion voted  the  Wons  should  take  a trip  to  Japan 
or  China,  and  find  some  place  where  they  could 
quickly  gain  the  strength  for  the  work  that  was 
so  pressing. 

They  started  with  a party  of  missionaries  re- 
turning from  the  annual  meeting  in  Seoul  to 
their  homes  in  southern  Korea,  or  to  Inchun  to 
take  the  steamer  to  the  North. 

The  little  boat  on  its  way  down  the  river  was 
packed,  I can  tell  you.  The  more  the  merrier. 


A Mismanaged  Hotel  237 

they  say,  but  especially  so  when  it  is  a crowd  of 
missionaries,  than  whom  a merrier  lot  of  people 
it  would  be  hard  to  find,  people  who  do  not 
know  them  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 

They  are  blue?  Yes,  of  course,  but  that  is  a 
heavenly  colour,  you  know,  and  haven’t  you 
seen  laughing  skies?  If  not  I’m  afraid  it  is 
because  you  cannot  see. 

At  Inchun  they  were  all  huddled  together  in 
one  wretched  hotel,  kept  well — not  by  West- 
erners. It  was  the  second  best,  where  the  best, 
which  was  full,  was  not  by  any  means  all  that 
could  be  desired.  The  manager  (perhaps  better 
say  keeper)  was  apparently  so  demoralized  at 
having  such  an  unheard-of  number  of  guests, 
and  all  calling  for  fires,  baths,  drinking  water, 
tea,  towels,  soap  or  something  equally  unheard 
of  and  absurd  at  once,  that  he  lost  his  wits  com- 
pletely and  never  hunted  them  up  again.  Hours 
after  supper  time  no  signs  of  supper  being  forth- 
coming for  the  hungry  crowd,  and  the  children 
who  were  getting  momently  sleepier  as  well  as 
more  hungr)^  being  in  a state  of  mind  which 
boded  no  good  to  any  one,  two  of  the  mission- 
aries invaded  the  dirty  kitchen  and  took  charge. 
Supper,  after  a fashion,  was  the  result.  To  be 
sure  there  were  not  enough  knives  and  forks, 
and  a table  boy  was  caught  washing  some  in  a 
bucket  of  muddy  mop  water  in  the  hall,  but  these 
were  mere  incidentals,  and  next  morning  saw 


238  To  Japan  and  Cliina 

our  friends  bidding  a glad  farewell  to  the  hotel, 
and  starting  on  their  various  routes  for  Pyeng 
Yang,  Fusan,  Taiku  and  Japan.  Arriving  at 
Nagasaki,  on  making  inquiries  of  friends  there, 
they  learned  that  at  a comparatively  short  dis- 
tance across  the  bay,  there  was  a seashore  vil- 
lage called  Obama,  and  that  in  the  mountains 
above,  was  a famous  group  of  sulphur  springs, 
the  favourite  resort  of  many  foreigners  from  both 
Japan  and  China,  as  well  as  of  the  native  Japa- 
nese. Hither  the  party  determined  to  go,  breathe 
the  bracing  mountain  air,  and  try  the  famous 
waters.  The  first  stage  of  their  journey  was  in 
jinrikishas,  from  Nagasaki  over  the  hills,  and 
through  a mountain  pass  to  a little  fishing  vil- 
lage called  Moki,  where  the  steamer  was  to  be 
had  which  was  to  take  them  across  the  bay. 

How  I wish  all  my  readers  could  see  and 
enjoy  all  that  our  people  saw  in  that  ride.  To 
attempt  to  describe  it  all  would  be  folly,  and  yet 
what  a vision  ! First  of  all,  wdth  a great  rattling 
over  the  stony  thoroughfares  of  the  city,  past 
gay  little  shops,  full  of  the  most  tempting  things, 
in  carved  ivory,  tortoise  shell,  silk  embroideries, 
porcelain,  crepes,  rugs,  etc.,  gay  little  children  in 
the  most  charming  colours,  picturesque  coolies, 
carrying  flowers,  vegetables,  or  other  wares,  on 
and  on,  till  the  road  begins  to  ascend,  when  one 
hires  a pusher,  or  gets  out  and  walks.  Up,  up 
it  winds,  the  hills  all  around  cultivated  to  the 


239 


A Road  in  Japan 

very  top,  while  the  mountains  lay  smiling  in 
melting  tints  of  blue.  At  the  point  where  de- 
scent begins,  one  looks  down  on  the  one  side 
upon  the  busy  city,  with  its  harbour  full  of  the 
shipping  of  the  world  passing  through  the  straits 
of  Shiminisaki  to  the  beautiful  Inland  Sea,  and 
on  the  other  upon  as  lovely  a valley  as  the  eye 
would  care  to  rest  upon. 

The  road  winds  down  through  bamboo  groves, 
into  the  heart  of  the  beautiful  hills,  overtopped 
by  more  beautiful  mountains  which  stood  re- 
splendent in  the  glorious  October  sunshine  and 
the  soft  misty  atmosphere.  A charming  brook 
crosses  the  road  continually,  and  is  bordered 
with  a wealth  of  ferns,  bewitching  to  a lover  of 
plants.  Something  over  two  hours’  ride,  drawn 
by  the  fleet-footed  Japanese  brought  them  to  the 
rather  dirty  little  village  of  Mokee  where  they 
found  that  they  must  spend  the  night  in  a native 
inn.  Though  there  were  several  in  the  place, 
there  was  not  much  to  choose  from ; all  were  in 
this  case  equally  uninviting.  The  thick  mats 
which  in  private  homes  do  so  nicely  for  beds, 
were  brought  in,  but  in  a hotel,  especially  an 
Eastern  one,  the  fastidious  eye  them  with  painful 
suspicion.  However,  our  weary  travellers  had 
nothing  for  it  but  to  spread  their  rugs  and  pil- 
lows, eschewing  the  much  padded  covers  brought 
by  the  hotel  people,  and  lie  down.  Disrobing 
was  out  of  the  question  with  Mrs.  Won,  who  had 


240 


To  Japan  and  China 


prejudices  ; for  every  now  and  then  some  male 
or  female  servant  came  walking  in  through  the 
too  conveniently  sliding  doors,  which  would 
neither  lock  nor  latch.  It  would  not  be  of  the 
least  use  piling  any  number  of  articles  of  furni- 
ture if  you  had  them  (which  you  don’t)  against 
such  doors,  which  slide  along  with  such  untrust- 
worthy ease.  In  fact,  at  any  moment  your  wall 
may  come  apart  anywhere,  and  the  unknown 
and  undesired  walk  into  your  room. 

Pastor  Won  liked  to  tell  of  his  first  visit  to 
Japan  on  his  way  to  Korea,  when  quite  alone, 
with  all  his  small  worldly  wealth  he  was  forced  to 
sleep  one  night  in  such  an  inn.  With  his  wallet 
under  his  head,  he  tried  to  compose  himself  to 
sleep,  wondering  if  those  heathen  innkeepers 
were  to  be  trusted,  and  not  reassured  by  the 
fact  that  without  his  hearing  a sound,  a servant 
entered  the  room  and  put  out  the  light.  But 
after  a little  as  he  lay  there  in  some  disquiet,,  he 
heard  from  the  room  above  him  the  familiar 
strains  of  dear  old  “ Rock  of  Ages,”  and  then 
the  accents  of  prayer,  upon  which  he  smiled  and 
fell  asleep. 

On  the  present  occasion,  Harry’s  mother  was 
not  afraid  of  robbers  or  cutthroats,  but  she  dis- 
liked guests  after  she  had  retired,  and  she 
realized  that  she  might  expect  them,  both  hu- 
man and  otherwise.  The  three  took  turns  guard- 
ing the  doors  for  each  other  while  ablutions  were 


Japanese  Bedrooms  241 

going  on,  but  after  that  it  was  hopeless.  Just 
as  Mrs.  Won  began  to  believe  she  could  put 
aside  her  doubts  and  fears,  and  assume  the  phleg- 
matic indifference  which  drowsiness  kindly  be- 
stows as  a nightcap,  a great  water  beetle,  two 
inches  long,  approached  her  with  touching  con- 
fidence that  she  would  protect  and  warm  him. 
His  mistake  was  manifest.  Mrs.  Won  scrambled 
to  her  feet  with  more  agility  than  one  would 
have  thought  possible  in  a rheumatic ; everybody 
jumped,  a hunt  was  instituted,  uselessly,  of 
course,  and  then  madam  announced  her  decision 
of  sitting  up  in  a camp  chair  all  night.  To  think 
of  lying  down  with  the  risk  of  having  those 
creatures  crawl  into  one’s  ears  or  mouth  was  too 
harrowing.  She  begged  the  Captain  and  Harry 
to  sit  up,  too,  but  to  no  effect.  Too  sleepy  to  care 
what  should  crawl  whither,  her  two  companions 
were  soon  unconscious. 

As  for  her,  poor,  weary  creature,  she  watched, 
but  saw  nothing,  though  she  watched  long.  She 
knew,  too,  quite  well,  that  it  only  meant  the  wily 
enemy  were  only  biding  their  time  until  she 
should  be  again  at  their  mercy.  How  fervently 
under  such  harrowing  circumstances  a woman, 
brought  up  in  the  midst  of  Anglo-Saxon  purity 
and  comfort,  longs  for  a proper  bedroom  and  a 
proper  bed,  words  are  totally  inadequate  to  ex- 
press. At  length  weariness  of  the  flesh  could 
hold  out  no  longer.  Hands  and  feet  went  to 


242  To  Japan  and  China 

sleep  whether  or  no.  A camp  chair  does  not 
offer  facilities  for  repose,  when  one’s  back  aches, 
and  there  is  no  place  for  the  too  heavy  head  ; in 
a word,  even  nerves,  of  which  Mrs.  Won  pos- 
sessed too  plentiful  a share,  succumbed,  and  she 
again  sought  the  floor,  and  again  was  no  sooner 
landed,  than  forth  came  the  enemy.  But  too 
late  to  torment  her  much.  A feeble  resistance 
w^as  made,  it  is  true,  but  not  long. 

Nature,  compelling  and  kind,  assumed  her  un- 
disputed sway,  and  before  one  o’clock  even  she 
was  sound  asleep,  in  spite  of  alarms. 

The  next  day  they  found  themselves  after  a 
short  sail  in  the  little  port  of  Obama.  This  is 
quite  a favourite  sea  bathing  place  with  the  na- 
tives, but  their  method  of  enjoying  it  must  needs 
remain  undescribed.  Civilization  has  still  much 
to  be  accomplished  in  Japan.  As  visiting  the 
beach  was  out  of  the  question,  they  decided  not 
to  linger  here,  but  made  arrangements  to  ascend 
to  the  sulphur  baths  at  once. 

In  order  to  go  up  the  mountain,  one  must  ride 
in  tiny  native  carrying  chairs  proportioned  to  ac- 
commodate the  small  and  light  Japanese.  They 
are  really  not  much  more  than  a tray,  with  a cover 
supported  on  four  poles,  and  so  low  that  only  a 
very  small  European  woman  can  sit  within,  with- 
out stooping.  When  Mr.  Won  came  to  try  one, 
he  found  that  very  extensive  folding  of  various 
members  was  absolutely  essential.  These  so- 


The  Land  of  Pictures  243 

called  chairs  are  slung  slantwise  across  the 
shoulders  of  two  men,  so  that  the  pole  which 
rests  on  the  first  bearer’s  right  shoulder,  lies  on 
the  left  one  of  the  man  who  walks  behind.  This 
gives  the  rider  a charming  view  of  the  scenery 
back  and  forth,  and  on  both  sides.  It  was  im- 
mensely well  worth  seeing.  Japanese  foliage  is 
redundant.  An  endless  variety  of  beautiful  trees, 
bushes  and  ferns  adorned  the  hillsides  as  far  as 
eye  could  reach.  Lovely  valleys  lay  in  tempting 
beauty  below,  magnificent  mountains  rose  in  lofty 
grandeur  above,  words  fail,  vocabularies  become 
exhausted,  the  picture  defies  description.  The 
Captain  soon  spurned  the  Konga,  which  he 
would  never  have  attempted  had  he  been  in 
health,  and  walked  until  exhaustion  made  a re- 
sort to  the  little  cage  absolutely  necessary. 

Six  or  seven  hours’  climbing  brought  them  at 
length  to  the  hot  springs  of  Unzen.  The  moun- 
tain which  was  not  probably  more  than  two 
thousand  feet  high  was  covered  with  beautiful 
woods,  but  at  its  level,  about  eight  or  ten  acres 
in  extent,  where  three  or  four  hotels  stood  wdthin 
a stone’s  throw  of  each  other,  very  little  green 
was  to  be  seen.  The  ground  was  w'hitened 
with  various  salts  deposited  by  the  water,  and 
the  air  almost  suffocating  with  the  fumes  of 
sulphur. 

Owing  to  the  fact  that  the  tourist  season  was 
over,  the  party  had  the  pick  of  the  three  or  four 


244  To  Japan  and  China 

nearly  empty  hotels,  and  were  soon  accommo- 
dated with  a comfortable  room,  but  decided 
almost  from  the  first  glance  at  the  environs  that 
it  would  never  do  to  stay  there.  The  house  was 
surrounded  with  pools  of  boiling  water,  bubbling 
up  continually  from  the  ground,  everywhere 
warning  signs  were  posted  to  visitors  not  to 
venture  here,  or  there,  without  a guide.  Steam 
issued  from  crevices  almost  anywhere,  the  earth 
in  the  whole  vicinity  was  hot  and  gave  a hollow 
sound  when  trodden  upon,  and  wherever  one 
poked  in  an  umbrella  or  stick  at  once  issued  a 
fierce  burst  of  sulphurous  steam,  and  a pool  of 
boiling  water.  With  the  least  inadvertence  one 
was  liable  at  any  misstep  to  plunge  a foot  ankle 
deep  into  boiling  water.  How  could  children  be 
allowed  to  venture  beyond  the  door  sill  into  such 
surroundings  ? It  looked  desolate  and  evil,  as  if 
it  might  be  the  very  entrance  to  the  abode  of  lost 
souls,  and  wicked  spirits. 

Taking  a little  reconnoitring  expedition,  they 
found  this  state  of  things  existed  over  quite  a 
large  extent  of  ground.  They  were  amused  and 
interested  to  find  that  the  natives  in  the  vicinity 
had  utilized  the  hot  earth  by  sinking  large  jars 
close  at  their  doors,  which  they  filled  with  pure 
water,  and  thus  kept  themselves  supplied  with 
that  necessity  at  boiling  point  day  and  night. 
They  also  saw  small  bowls  of  food  well  covered, 
partly  sunk  in  the  hot  ground,  in  process  of 


Hot  Springs  245 

cooking  for  a labourer’s  noon  meal.  It  was  won- 
derful, curious,  but  grewsome  and  horrible.  That 
night  in  the  wee,  small  hours,  they  were  awak- 
ened by  a low  threatening  rumble  as  of  thunder 
which  grew  louder  and  terrifying,  while  the  earth, 
the  house  and  the  Americans  in  their  beds,  were 
shaken,  not  by  the  rocking  of  the  ordinary  earth- 
quake, but  with  an  up  and  down  pepper-box 
motion,  as  though  the  source  of  convulsion  was 
directly  underneath. 

Mrs.  Won  piously  vowed  that  if  she  lived  till 
morning  she  would  flee  that  evil  place ; so  next 
day,  on  a tour  of  discovery,  they  found  a very 
pleasant  hotel  about  two  miles  away  from  the 
main  springs,  with  a lovely  view  of  woods, 
mountains  and  sea,  and  a safe  place  for  children 
to  play.  To  be  sure  there  were  hot  springs  near 
it,  too,  but  smaller,  out  of  sight,  and  not  menac- 
ing the  safety  of  little  ones.  Here  they  moved 
bag  and  baggage  at  once.  There  was  not  only 
a fine  large  garden,  but  a beautiful  artificial  pond 
such  as  Japanese  and  children  love,  with  an  island 
in  the  centre,  dwarf  trees  and  little  bridges,  and 
full  of  gold  fish,  some  of  them  nearly  a yard  long, 
with  the  most  wonderfully  beautiful  fins  and  tails. 
Not  far  away  was  a dell  where  a brook  leaped 
down  the  mountain-side  over  great  boulders, 
rested  a little  in  a lovely  glassy  pool  shaded  by 
magnificent  trees,  and  then  fell  sparkling  on  its 
downward  course  to  the  valley  and  the  sea. 


246  To  Japan  and  China 

This  pool  was  great  sport.  Here  toy  navies 
could  ride  at  anchor,  here  dams  were  built,  here 
children  could  splash  about  barefooted  in  the 
water  to  their  hearts’  content,  or  give  free  vent  to 
the  imprisoned  monkey  within,  in  climbing  about 
over  the  rocks  at  the  risk  of  their  necks,  not  to 
mention  their  garments.  For  the  rest  there  were 
the  ferns  that  nestled  lovingly  in  every  crack  and 
corner  among  the  stones,  the  graceful  vines  and 
the  ever  changing  beauty  of  scenery.  But  for 
all  the  beauty,  nobody  seemed  to  gain  any 
strength.  Mamma  Won’s  rheumatism  grew 
daily  worse,  and  so  they  decided  to  try  the 
merits  of  a sea  trip,  returning  to  Korea  via 
Shanghai  and  Cheefoo,  not  on  the  rule  that  the 
longest  way  round  is  the  shortest  way  home,  but 
believing  that  the  longest  way  round  would  bring 
them  home  the  fittest  for  work.  So  back  they 
went,  down  the  mountain,  Harry  murmuring  . 
much  at  not  being  allowed  to  box  up  the  pool 
and  take  it  along,  only  carrying  away  pleasant 
memories,  a strong  odour  of  sulphur,  a few  min- 
eral specimens  and  photos.  At  Nagasaki  they 
took  one  of  the  Japanese  steamers  bound  for 
Shanghai,  and  prepared  for  about  thirty-six 
hours  of  misery.  The  Yellow  Sea  is  unpleasantly 
notorious  among  travellers  in  the  East,  as  the 
most  disagreeable  body  of  water  one  ever  is 
compelled  to  become  acquainted  with.  Here 
typhoons  play  their  wildest  and  most  terrible 


247 


A Rough  Voyage 

antics,  here  are  fogs,  rocks,  drifting  currents, 
high  tides,  and  those  choppy  cross  seas  which 
in  a way  all  their  own,  toss  up  a steamer 
and  its  passengers  with  a peculiarly  evil  dex- 
terity, almost  invariably  successfully  sending 
everybody  to  bed  in  the  most  awful  throes  of 
violent  seasickness.  Proud  and  vain  mortals 
who  boasted  of  crossing  the  Pacific  or  Atlantic 
without  a qualm,  have  succumbed  on  the  trip 
from  Nagasaki  to  Fusan  or  Chemulpo.  The 
crossing  from  Shanghai  to  either  of  these  ports 
has  an  even  more  undesirable  reputation. 
Whether  its  yellow  character  has  anything  to 
do  with  this  is  not  certain,  but  I am  inclined  to 
think  it  may.  So  our  party,  big  and  little,  re- 
signed themselves  to  misery,  as  I said,  but  like 
most  earthly  trials,  it  didn’t  last  forever,  and  they 
found  themselves  in  Shanghai  not  much  the 
worse,  hoping  and  believing  as  Mrs.  Won  always 
insisted  on  doing,  that  they  were  in  some  way 
much  the  better  for  the  trial,  either  spiritually  or 
physically,  perhaps  both,  since  every  difficulty 
patiently  and  meekly  endured,  must  brace  and 
strengthen  the  character,  as  the  wild  tempests  of 
winter  strengthen  the  fibre  of  the  tall  trees  that 
are  to  serve  in  carrying  the  King’s  messengers 
from  continent  to  continent. 

Shanghai ! What  a metropolis,  what  a Vanity 
Fair,  what  a collection  of  all  that  is  desirable  in 
material  things,  what  gaiety,  what  a breath  of 


248  To  Japan  and  China 

Europe  to  people  just  emerged  from  the  depths 
of  Korea. 

But  arriving  there  fresh  from  San  Francisco,  or 
London  or  New  York,  w'hat  a pitiful  travesty  of 
a town,  what  an  inextricable  mixture  of  all  the 
races  on  the  globe,  what  unsatisfactory  imitations 
of  proper  shops,  what  poor  streets,  how  shut  in, 
how  drearily  Chinese,  Eastern  and  heathen,  with 
just  a sufficient  varnish  of  the  European  to  re- 
move the  charm  of  the  strange  and  the  foreign. 

Yet  in  some  things  Shanghai  is  always  re- 
markable, unique  and  excellent.  She  is  perhaps 
the  most  cosmopolitan  city  in  the  world,  and 
with  a great  native  population,  and  town,  purely 
Chinese,  in  all  its  filth,  misery,  darkness  and 
degradation,  it  has  a foreign  concession,  which 
is  a little  republic  in  itself  with  its  own  laws  and 
officials,  and  which,  for  good  order  and  cleanli- 
ness, might  well  be  imitated  by  Western  cities. 

As  for  those  tall,  magnificent  Sikh  policemen, 
Harry  and  Mrs.  Won  were  simply  fascinated. 

They  all  wear  such  charmingly  picturesque 
turbans  and  sashes  of  gorgeous  Eastern  colours, 
and  stand  as  unmoved  as  ’stone  statues,  in  the 
midst  of  the  awful  crushing,  jamming,  confusion 
and  hurly-burly  of  Shanghai  thoroughfares. 

To  our  benighted  travellers  from  the  back- 
woods  of  Korea  it  was  a wonderful  and  charming 
city,  full  of  delightful  possibilities.  First  of  all  it 
was  like  water  to  a desert-starved  traveller  to  see 


Shopping  in  Shanghai  249 

so  many  Europeans  and  Americans.  Then  the 
shops,  what  a chance  to  re-stock  in  all  the  thou- 
sand and  one  little  things  housekeepers  in  the 
East  unexpectedly  run  short  of  and  cannot  get 
there.  It  is  such  a comfort  to  be  able  to  pick 
out  shoes  and  stockings  and  hats  and  gloves  for 
oneself.  They  soon  found  the  foreign  shops  were 
not  for  them,  where  freight,  duty,  great  shop 
rents,  and  clerk  hire,  made  the  prices  of  very  or- 
dinary articles,  especially  expressed  in  silver  dol- 
lars, or  yen,  appalling.  One  experience  was 
enough  for  sister  Won.  She  asked  the  price  of 
a small  pressed  glass  ice  jar,  which  she  felt  it 
would  be  almost  an  affliction  to  see  on  her  table, 
intending  to  crucify  the  flesh  by  purchasing  it, 
instead  of  a nice  one.  Supposing  the  price 
would  not  be  more  than  twenty-five  cents,  she 
was  aghast  to  be  placidly  informed  that  she 
might  have  it  for  nine  dollars ! She  fled  the 
spot  as  quickly  as  her  fainting  members  would 
transport  her,  and  sought  the  native  stores. 
Here  were  real  bargains,  and  here  (remember 
she  had  not  shopped  for  years)  she  hung  de- 
lighted over  the  counters  for  hours.  You  must 
know  that  when  Pastor  Won  reached  Shanghai, 
his  first  visit  was  paid  to  the  bank,  where  he  un- 
derstood that  he  had  a small  balance  to  his  ac- 
count, fully  realizing  that  he  would  need  it  all 
now  if  ever.  To  his  delight  and  surprise  he  was 
informed  that  his  balance  amounted  to  several 


250  To  Japan  and  China 

hundred  yen  more  than  he  had  expected,  and  he 
took  the  liberty  to  meekly  suggest  that  he  feared 
there  was  some  mistake.  The  haughty  clerk  was 
astounded  at  such  effrontery,  and  in  concise, 
frigid  and  overwhelming  tones  gave  the  Captain 
to  understand  that  the  bank  made  no  mistakes. 
He,  of  course,  while  humiliated,  was  nevertheless 
not  ill  pleased  to  find  that  he  had  been  so  far  in 
the  wrong,  on  the  right  side.  The  matter  was 
of  some  years  standing ; he  had  kept  a balance 
there  for  convenience  in  trading  in  Shanghai; 
there  had  been  some  oversight,  but  now,  they 
would  do  the  town  with  an  easy  conscience. 
They  declared,  when  they  saw  real  carriages, 
landaus  and  victorias  (a  sight  which  had  not 
gladdened  their  eyes  for  years),  with  a degree  of 
extravagance  and  folly  incomprehensible  in  mis- 
sionaries, that  they  meant  to  have  a ride  in  a 
carriage  behind  a pair  of  horses  if  it  took  the  last 
dollar  they  ever  had.  A hack  much  the  worse 
for  wear,  drawn  by  bony,  unhappy  looking 
horses,  and  driven  by  a very  evil  looking  China- 
man, w'as  speedily  brought  to  the  door.  The 
one  idea  of  these  drivers  seems  to  be  that  of  get- 
ting to  and  from  one  point  to  another,  at  the 
greatest  possible  speed,  and  they  doubtless  keep 
a time  record  somewhere,  and  gamble  on  the 
result.  The  Wons  had  noticed  this,  and  so  had 
asked  an  American  resident  to  teach  them  the 
Chinese  words  meaning  “drive  slowly.”  These 


251 


Drive  Slowly 

they  repeated  to  themselves  a great  number  of 
times,  so  as  to  be  able  to  check  the  headlong 
speed  of  their  Jehus.  Forth  then  they  started, 
into  the  narrow  thoroughfares,  most  of  which 
have  no  sidewalks,  crowded  past  description 
with  pedestrians  very  young,  and  very  old,  with 
wheelbarrows,  jinrikishas,  equestrians,  bicycles, 
carriages  and  hacks  like  their  own.  In  a moment 
the  driver,  leaning  forward,  was  lashing  the  un- 
happy horses,  who  were  plunging  frantically  for- 
ward into  the  mass  of  humanity.  Mrs.  Won’s 
eyes  dilated  with  horror;  she  grasped  the  seat 
with  both  hands  and  braced  herself  to  be  shortly 
either  a victim  or  a murderer.  The  Captain,  in 
stentorian  tones,  shouted  over  and  over  the  cab- 
alistic words  supposed  to  mean  “ go  slowly,”  but 
nothing  came  to  pass.  Either  they  were  not 
pronounced  properly,  or  were  totally  unheeded. 
Away  they  went,  like  a party  of  drunken  sailors 
on  a holiday,  careering  through  the  town  at  an 
indecent  pace ; nothing  had  any  effect  on  their 
reckless  driver,  until  in  swinging  round  a corner, 
the  thing  which  Mrs.  Won  had  all  along  feared 
actually  happened;  they  upset  a jinrikisha,  and 
tumbled  out  a highly  respectable  old  Chinaman, 
who  only  escaped  being  ground  under  their 
wheels  by  some  miracle.  During  the  delay  oc- 
casioned by  this  episode,  the  Captain  possessed 
himself  of  the  driver’s  whip,  and  thenceforth  they 
proceeded  at  the  rate  of  a funeral  on  its  way  to 


252  To  Japan  and  China 

the  cemetery.  This  was  infinitely  better,  how- 
ever, and  Mrs.  Won  now  consented  to  relax,  lean 
back,  and  enjoy  the  ride.  There  is  only  one 
possible  suburb  to  which  one  can  escape  from 
the  city  of  Shanghai,  and  that  is  the  Bubbling 
Wells  road. 

Perhaps  because  they  had  heard  so  much  about 
it,  perhaps  because  there  are  such  a multitude 
of  beautiful  places  outside  of  Seoul,  the  Wons 
were  greatly  disappointed  in  this  drive.  That 
most  interesting  in  connection  with  it  to  them, 
was  the  number  of  elegantly  appointed  convey- 
ances, and  elegantly  dressed  ladies  whom  they 
met  taking  their  daily  airing  here.  Certainly  the 
Shanghai  world,  native  and  foreign,  were  abroad 
on  that  day. 

This  drive  was  their  only  experiment  in  the 
livery  stable  line,  but  they  felt  it  would  last  for  a 
long  time.  Far  more  than  the  drive,  which  we 
have  seen  was  not  unmixed  bliss,  even  more  than 
the  shops  and  the  people,  the  missionaries  en- 
joyed the  pretty  park  facing  the  harbour,  and  es- 
pecially at  six  o’clock  when  a real  foreign  band 
played  real  music,  when  the  fountains  were  going, 
and  when,  best  of  all,  the  place  was  crowded  with 
lovely  foreign  children.  What  a joy  it  was  to 
their  hungry  eyes  and  hearts  to  see  so  many  lit- 
tle ones.  White,  Caucasians,  mostly  English 
and  American,  too,  though  there  were  German, 
French,  Portuguese,  Italians,  and  I suppose 


Jinrikisha  Riding 


253 


specimens  of  nearly  every  nationality  in  Europe. 
“ And  the  streets  of  the  city  shall  be  full  of  chil- 
dren playing  in  the  streets  of  the  city.”  It  seems 
to  me  that  it  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  and 
bewitching  sidelights  of  description  the  Bible 
throws  on  that  city  that  is  to  be. 

Harry  was  nearly  beside  himself  with  delight ; 
he  had  never  seen  so  many  children  in  his  life  be- 
fore, and  the  park,  the  children,  the  music,  the 
fountains,  the  flowers  and  the  games  were  a sort 
of  heaven  to  him. 

Shanghai  gives  one  the  impression  of  an  im- 
mensely busy  place ; it  is  quite  American  in  its 
rush  and  bustle,  everybody  seems  in  a tearing 
hurry,  and  one  catches  the  infection  immedi- 
ately. 

Distances  being  great,  they  had  to  patronize 
the  jinrikishas  continually  to  their  great  regret, 
for  the  coolies  who  pull  them  have  become  like 
the  cab  drivers,  possessed  with  the  spirit  of  Jehu, 
and  nothing  suffices  to  check  their  terrible  head- 
long speed.  Accidents  of  the  most  serious  char- 
acter are  of  daily  occurrence  as  might  well  be  in- 
ferred at  once,  by  any  one  viewing  the  crowds  of 
vehicles  and  people  rushing  madly  in  every  di- 
rection. Harry’s  mamma  always  sat  bolt  upright, 
her  teeth  clenched,  her  hands  convulsively  grasp- 
ing the  sides  of  her  perambulator,  heart  palpitat- 
ing somewhere  about  the  rate  of  one  hundred 
and  thirty  to  the  minute,  and  in  constant  expecta- 


254  Japan  and  China 

tion  of  instant  death  or  mutilation.  Though  she 
escaped  any  accident,  one  of  her  friends  was  not 
so  fortunate  ; and  a few  days  later,  as  they  swung 
round  a corner  at  automobile  speed,  she  was 
flung  to  the  ground  with  her  baby  in  her  arms. 
Providentially  the  night  was  cold,  they  were 
both  bundled  and  wrapped,  and  so  got  off  with  a 
few  sprains  and  bruises.  The  ’rikisha  man  dis- 
appeared, well  knowing  he  was  liable  to  punish- 
ment. All  these  ’rikisha  coolies  are  obliged  to 
buy  licenses  ; each  vehicle  is  numbered,  and  fare 
is  regulated  by  law,  the  amount  to  be  paid  an 
hour  being  plainly  printed  in  each  carriage,  so 
that  there  is  really  less  difficulty  in  dealing  with 
these  men  here  than  anywhere  else.  Another 
much  used  conveyance  in  Shanghai,  both  for 
carrying  goods  and  people,  is  the  wheelbarrow. 
This  has  often  been  described,  and  I need  only 
say,  it  is  the  most  cumbrous,  unwieldy,  ugly,  in- 
convenient and  generally  objectionable  thing  in 
the  way  of  a vehicle  that  in  the  writer’s  opinion 
was  ever  invented,  motor  cars  (in  regard  to  speed 
its  exact  opposite)  only  excepted.  But  its  looks 
and  unpleasant  way  of  blocking  the  road  is  noth- 
ing to  the  awful  sounds  which  emanate  there- 
from, to  which  the  squealing  of  several  stuck  pigs 
is  blandest  music  in  comparison.  Any  sound 
more  grating,  rasping,  cruelly  agonizing  to  the 
whole  nervous  system  the  w'riter  has  never  heard  ; 
the  very  memory  of  it  is  torture,  and  the  fact  that 


Going  to  Church  255 

the  Chinese  can  calmly  endure  this,  even  riding 
for  miles  in  these  machines,  proves,  without  a 
doubt,  the  theory  that  they  are  less  sensitive  to 
impressions  of  pain  than  Caucasians. 

Mrs.  Won,  though  a good  Presbyterian  by  in- 
heritance and  conviction,  often  found  a peculiar 
delight  in  the  English  Church,  so  here  after  at- 
tending the  union  service  of  her  own  and  other 
denominations  in  the  morning,  the  Captain  and 
she  visited  the  English  Church  in  the  evening. 
She  liked  the  beauty  and  order,  the  grand  old 
service  when  well  read ; she  liked  to  kneel  and 
stand  in  outward  token  of  reverence  and  devo- 
tion, Puritan  though  she  was,  and  she  liked  the 
music.  But  here  was  an  unusually  fine  pipe 
organ,  and  an  organist  who  knew  how  to  use  it, 
and  who  had  a soul  for  worship  and  for  spiritual 
things  as  well  as  the  gift  of  a musician,  and  it 
seemed  to  the  woman  who  had  been  shut  away 
there  so  long,  where  no  such  heavenly  ministra- 
tions were  ever  known,  that  her  soul  rose  on  the 
wings  of  that  music,  and  floated  up  in  a rap- 
ture to  the  City,  and  was  bathed  in  the  harmonies 
and  blessedness  of  heaven. 

But  this  was  only  too  brief,  and  soon  it  was  all 
over,  and  yet  the  sweet  memory  and  joy  of  it 
lingered  and  she  hoped  perhaps  in  some  way  she 
might  be  a better,  nobler  woman  for  it,  as  she 
knew  she  was  a deeply  grateful  one.  And  that 
organist  who  sat  up  there  on  his  bench  and 


2)6  To  Japan  and  China 

served  God  with  his  gift  will  never  know  till 
time  is  past  what  a blessing  he  conferred  upon  a 
poor  thirsty  soul,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  duty 
done  joyfully  as  well  as  faithfully. 

Of  course,  while  in  Shanghai,  they  visited  the 
missionaries,  heard  the  fascinating  tale  of  their 
work,  saw  their  fine  schools,  churches  and  hos- 
pitals, yes,  and  held  converse  with  some  of  those 
very  men  and  women  and  little  children  who 
were  soon  after  to  swell  the  noble  army  of 
martyrs.  But  those  who  visit  such  a work  as 
that,  in  so  necessarily  hurried  a way,  cannot 
speak  of  it  in  detail  with  accuracy  and  justice, 
aside  from  the  fact  that  a suitable  report  of  mis- 
sion work  in  Shanghai  would  in  itself  be  enough 
to  fill  a large  book.  So  I shall  simply  content 
myself  with  saying  that  they  gladly  learned  useful 
lessons  at  the  feet  of  these  consecrated  workers, 
and  came  away  with  new  inspiration  and  encour- 
agement. 

They  had  not  come  to  Shanghai,  however,  in- 
tending to  make  any  stay  longer  than  was  neces- 
sary to  wait  for  a steamer  going  to  Cheefoo  and 
Korea,  so  all  too  soon  Mrs.  Won  and  Harry 
thought,  and  not  a moment  too  soon  thought 
the  man  with  the  full  account  book  and  nearly 
empty  purse,  they  sailed  for  Cheefoo  with  its 
fine  bracing  air  and  magnificent  beach. 

At  the  hotel  in  Cheefoo  our  young  American 
caused  considerable  amusement  by  his  table  talk 


Boy  Statesmen  257 

on  politics  and  matters  of  world  interest.  On 
coming  into  the  breakfast  room  Harry  would 
ask  his  father,  who  was  perhaps  reading  some 
Shanghai  paper,  “What  are  the  powers  doing 
now,  papa?”  with  the  air  of  a legation  attache 
at  least. 

One  morning  he  and  another  small  boy  dis- 
cussed with  much  acerbity  the  action  of  Germany 
in  regard  to  the  Greeks  and  the  Turkish  war, 
Harry  ending  up  with  the  remark,  “ If  we  only 
decide  to  go  into  this  matter,  we  could  show 
them  what,  couldn’t  we,  Willie”  (meaning,  of 
course,  England  and  America).  The  German 
consul  who  happened  to  be  sitting  at  the  next 
table  was  of  course  greatly  entertained  at  the 
pomposity  of  the  young  American  Eagle. 

As  the  party  were  obliged  to  wait  here  at 
least  a week  for  their  steamer  to  Korea,  it  was 
decided  to  take  a short  trip  inland  to  Tung 
Chow,  in  order  to  see  the  famous  schools  of 
the  mission  there.  The  Cheefoo  missionaries 
gladly  offered  to  help  them  make  arrangements, 
and  this  was  the  more  feasible,  as  a missionary 
from  that  place  was  there  in  Cheefoo,  for  the 
purpose  of  conducting  a young  couple  just  from 
America  to  their  appointed  station.  There  were 
usually  only  two  ways  to  reach  Tung  Chow,  one 
by  water  (and  no  boats  were  now  running),  and 
one  by  a schenza  or  mule  litter. 

The  schenza  is  not  a flowery  bed  of  ease.  It 


258  To  Japan  and  China 

is  carried  by  two  mules,  one  in  front  and  one 
behind,  on  whose  yokes  its  frame  merely  rests, 
and  remains  by  virtue  of  skillful  balancing  and 
weight.  In  its  lower  part,  made  of  ropes  well 
woven  together,  and  bound  to  the  frame,  are 
deposited  one’s  baggage ; over  these  are  rugs, 
blankets,  pillows  and  comforters,  and  on  them 
sits  the  victim,  overshadowed  by  a canvas  cover, 
stretched  over  hoops,  looking  not  unlike  a prairie 
colonizer’s  wagon.  But  the  traveller  must  be- 
ware how  he  or  she  sits,  and  avoid  putting  too 
much  weight  above  the  centre  of  gravity,  or  too 
much  on  either  side  of  it,  or  there  will  be  sudden 
and  unexpected  calamity.  Usually  only  one  per- 
son rides  in  these  litters,  though  sometimes  a 
small  American  woman  with  a baby,  and  even  a 
Chinese  nurse,  well  adjusted  and  much  experi- 
enced, have  managed  it  successfully  together. 
But  the  missionaries  tell  a sad  tale  of  a very  fat 
couple,  recently  married,  who  insisted,  in  spite  of 
the  protests  of  the  experienced,  in  riding  together 
in  one  of  these  conveyances,  and  how  even  be- 
fore it  left  the  compound,  it  yielded  to  the  laws 
of  gravity,  and  relentlessly  rolled  off  the  mules 
and  dumped  the  portly  couple  on  the  ground. 

The  motions  of  the  schenza  are  said  by  the 
practiced  to  be  three;  one  is  the  side  to  side 
rocking  of  the  cradle,  one  forward  and  back  like 
the  fan,  and  one  the  up  and  down  of  the  pepper 
box. 


Schenza  Riding  259 

The  Cheefoo  friends  said  they  didn’t  believe 
Mrs.  Won,  who,  you  will  have  seen  by  this  time, 
was  not  strong,  and  was  moreover  lame,  could 
stand  this  combination  of  joltings  for  twenty-four 
hours  of  travel. 

But  she  was  very  anxious  to  go,  and  the  Cap- 
tain, as  usual,  found  a way.  Has  any  one  ever 
gone  there  in  a sedan  chair?  was  his  first  ques- 
tion. “ No,”  was  the  reply,  in  all  the  thirty  years 
work  that  has  been  carried  on,  no  woman,  how- 
ever delicate,  has  ever  gone  except  in  a schenza 
or  by  steamer.  It  was  doubtful,  they  said,  if 
coolies  could  be  hired  to  go  so  far. 

But  the  Captain  believed  in  trying,  and  suc- 
cessfully contracted,  at  a very  moderate  rate,  with 
four  chair  coolies  to  carry  the  wife  to  Tung  Chow, 
while  Harry  and  he  and  the  other  lady  of  the 
party  had  a couple  of  schenzas  and  a donkey. 
So  Mrs.  Won  was  the  pioneer  of  sedan-chair 
travel  from  Cheefoo  to  Tung  Chow.  The  young 
bride,  Mrs.  Cole,  found  the  schenza  very  weary- 
ing, and  was  glad  to  accept  an  exchange  for  a 
few  hours  with  Harry’s  mother,  who  therefore 
had  a fair  trial  of  this  far-famed,  and  in  China 
much-used  conveyance. 

Harry,  whose  soft  little  joints  had  no  pain  in 
them,  and  who  was  as  elastic  as  a rubber  ball, 
quite  enjoyed  the  jolting.  I suppose  it  reminded 
him  of  his  baby  days  when  he  had  been  jumped, 
trotted,  rocked  and  generally  shaken  up  by  his 


l6o  To  Japan  and  China 

innumerable  nurse  maids  of  various  nations,  who 
each  had  her  own  special  scheme  of  exercise  and 
unrest  for  infants ; at  any  rate  he  professed  to 
enjoy  it,  but  with  his  Amonni  it  was  very  dif- 
ferent. Besides  stiff  joints,  and  a head  that 
jumped  at  any  excuse  to  ache,  she  possessed, 
as  I have  said  before,  an  uncommonly  irascible 
set  of  nerves,  which,  like  a skittish  horse  with 
his  ears  always  pricked  up,  were  continually  on 
the  lookout  for  causes  of  alarm,  and  ready  to 
shy  at  the  first  hint  of  anything  of  the  sort.  I’m 
rather  ashamed  of  Harry’s  Amonni  as  I have 
stated  before  ; she  was  far  from  my  ideal,  but  yet 
this  must  be  said,  in  her  honest  defense,  I don’t 
think  she  ever  shrank  from  any  real  or  threatened 
danger  which  she  knew  that  for  any  good  reason 
it  was  right  for  her  to  meet.  In  fact  I know  that 
more  than  once  she  walked  calmly  into  very  real 
danger  without  the  quiver  of  a nerve.  Still,  she 
would  scream  when  a June  bug  flew  in  her  face, 
and  was  extremely  silly  in  all  such  little  things. 
So  in  the  schenza,  the  bumping  wasn’t  what 
troubled  her  most,  but  first  of  all  she  realized 
that  any  little  aberration  on  the  part  of  either  of 
the  mules,  as,  one  going  forward  and  the  other 
stopping,  would  land  her  on  the  ground.  She 
next  found  that  she  had  no  way  whatever  of  con- 
trolling the  animals,  neither  whip  nor  rein,  and 
the  sternest  adjurations  or  thetenderest  coaxings 
had  no  effect  whatever  on  their  stony  hearts. 


Mules  Will  be  Mules  261 

She  next  discovered  that  it  was  not  only  impos- 
sible for  her  to  get  out  of  the  contrivance,  unless 
the  beasts  were  stopped  and  made  to  kneel  down, 
but  also  that  she  had  no  possible  means  of  look- 
ing out  at  the  side  or  back,  without  endangering 
a tip-up  of  the  whole  affair,  nor  could  she  make 
anybody  hear.  About  this  time,  the  road  lead- 
ing along  a rather  high,  rocky  bluff,  with  broken 
edges,  where  large  blocks  of  earth  and  stone  had 
fallen  away,  the  mules  with  pure  malice  afore- 
thought, deliberately  and  with  awful  slowness, 
began  walking  as  close  to  the  ragged  edge  as 
was  possible,  no  doubt  in  serious  contemplation 
of  suicide.  Life  isn’t  very  dear  to  a schenza 
mule,  and  he’d  enjoy  dying  like  Sampson,  if  he 
could  kill  the  Philistines  at  the  same  time.  There 
is  always  a schenza  driver,  a stolid  Chinaman 
with  a long  whip  and  a face  of  wood,  who  is 
supposed  to  be  in  charge,  to  guide,  direct,  ex- 
hort and  rebuke  the  mules,  and  make  himself  as 
useful  to  the  “ foreign  devil  ” who  employs  him 
as  consistent  with  his,  the  driver’s,  dignity, 
pleasure  and  convenience.  But  on  this  occa- 
sion, his  pleasure  and  convenience  led  him  to 
linger  a quarter  of  a mile  to  the  rear,  confabbing 
with  another  schenza  man,  and  so,  when  Harry’s 
Amonni  lifted  up  her  voice,  and  screamed  for 
somebody  to  come  and  save  her  life,  not  only 
did  all  the  sound  waves  flow  foward  instead  of 
back  from  that  speaking  tube  of  a conveyance, 


262  To  Japan  and  China 

but  the  man  was  so  far  away  that  he  couldn’t 
hear,  even  if  he  wanted  to,  which,  of  course,  he 
didn’t,  and  Pastor  Won  and  the  others  who  were 
walking  with  Harry,  had  dropped  far  behind 
and  were  deep  in  the  discussion  of  mission  prob- 
lems. So  there  was  no  help  for  it;  Mrs.  Won 
found  there  was  nothing  but  to  trust  the  Lord,  for 
I’m  afraid  that  like  a good  many  others  she  only 
fell  back  in  His  arms  when  there  was  nothing  left 
that  she  or  anybody  else  could  do.  And  yet  she 
was  not  all  wrong  even  in  this,  for  I suppose  we 
most  of  us  believe  that  God  “ helps  the  man  who 
helps  himself,”  and  that  He  expects  us  to  do  our 
best,  always  resting  on  the  knowledge  that  He 
is  with  and  for  us,  and  stands  ready  to  help 
where  we  fail. 

Our  danger  is,  that  in  the  belief  we  must  do 
all  we  can,  we  sometimes  are  led  to  ignore  God’s 
help,  and  to  forget  that  where  we  seemed  to  suc- 
ceed, it  was  only  because  His  strength  lay  back 
of  our  weakness,  and  when  we  fail,  to  think  only 
in  a despairing  kind  of  way,  that  “ there  is  noth- 
ing for  it  but  to  trust  the  Lord,”  as  if  in  Him 
were  not  the  very  first  beginning  of  our  hope 
and  surety.  Of  course  nothing  untoward  hap- 
pened, except  that  Mrs.  Won  made  such  hasty 
preparation  for  sudden  death  as  the  place  and 
circumstances  would  admit  of,  and  tried  to  await 
the  end  with  becoming  fortitude.  When  the 
missionaries  had  finished  one  chapter  of  their 


Desolate  North  China  263 

discussion,  they  mounted  their  donkeys,  caught 
up  with  the  schenza,  and  then  there  was  an  end 
of  trouble.  No  trouble  ever  lasted  long,  or 
seemed  unendurable  to  Harry’s  mother  when 
the  Captain  was  at  hand.  The  driver  was 
brought  to  time,  and,  by  dextrously  twisting 
the  hind  mule’s  tail,  the  carriage  was  stopped, 
though  how  it  happened  that  the  front  animal 
didn’t  go  on,  was  never  known.  Both  were  then 
made  to  lie  down,  and  the  tired  woman  was 
helped  out.  She  never  repeated  the  experiment, 
and  from  that  day,  the  missionary  itinerant 
women  of  China  have  had  her  wondering  re- 
spect, nay  her  reverence,  with  untold  commisera- 
tion. 

Nor  were  the  trials  they  so  uncomplainingly 
bear  in  travelling  her  only  reason  for  this  regard. 
To  work  in  a country  which  so  far,  at  least,  as 
North  China  is  concerned,  has  no  features  of 
physical  beauty,  but  is  one  great  dreary,  almost 
treeless  plain,  swept  by  awful  clouds  of  fine 
poisonous  dust,  where  flowers  and  vegetables 
are  with  the  greatest  difficulty  coaxed  into  a 
feeble  existence,  where  the  masses  of  the  people 
hate  the  foreigner,  and  are  ready  at  any  mo- 
ment to  mob  them,  must  be  a trial  which  only 
the  inspiration  of  the  work  and  the  peace  of  God 
in  the  soul  can  overbalance.  In  many  of  the 
small  stations  in  interior  cities  the  loneliness  is 
almost  overpowering,  and  works  havoc  with  the 


264  To  Japan  and  China 

nerves  of  some  women.  One  of  them,  a high- 
strung,  finely  organized,  delicate  American 
woman  of  wealth,  who  had  left  a home  of  lux- 
ury to  go  with  her  husband  to  carry  gospel  light 
to  China,  told  Mrs.  Won  that  during  five  years 
of  such  life  her  reason  was  almost  wrecked. 
There  was  only  one  other  woman  in  the  station, 
about  three  miles  distant  at  the  opposite  side  of 
the  large  Chinese  city.  There  was  no  garden, 
no  place  where  she  could  walk,  but  from  her  bed- 
room, through  the  sitting-room  to  the  kitchen 
and  back.  It  was  not  safe  for  her  to  go,  even  in 
a chair,  alone  across  the  city  to  see  her  com- 
patriot or  to  visit  Chinese,  the  work  there  having 
only  recently  been  started,  and  they  entire  stran- 
gers to  the  whole  native  community,  who  re- 
garded them  with  hate  and  suspicion.  Her 
husband  was  away  weeks  at  a time,  itinerating 
in  the  country ; God  had  not  blessed  her  with 
little  ones,  and  so  as  with  rapid  strides,  she 
paced  her  cage  like  an  imprisoned  animal,  she 
wondered  how  long  reason  would  endure.  It 
was  all  the  agony  of  solitary  confinement,  and  at 
length  she  was  only  saved  by  removal  to  a port 
where  some  social  intercourse  and  out-of-door 
exercise  were  possible.  But  even  where  several 
hours  a day  were  spent  in  interesting  work  with 
Chinese  w^omen,  or  where  there  are  little  children 
of  one’s  own  to  interest  and  occupy  one,  the  lack 
of  fresh  air  and  exercise  (for  in  many  interior 


Making  the  Best  of  It  265 

towns  it  is  not  safe  for  foreign  women  on  the 
streets),  the  absolutely  viewless  prospect,  the 
want  of  social  intercourse  with  equals,  the  need 
of  an  occasional  change  of  occupation  and 
thought,  wears  fearfully  on  American  nerves. 
Mrs.  Won  thanked  God  more  than  ever  for 
beautiful  Korea,  with  its  mountains  and  rivers, 
her  dear  garden,  and  best  of  all,  her  dear  friendly 
people. 

Only  part  of  their  journey  was  made  during 
the  first  day,  and  night  found  them  at  a native 
inn,  which  far  exceeded  in  filth  and  discomfort 
anything  they  had  ever  seen  in  Korea. 

It  seemed  almost  impossible  to  think  of  eating 
in  such  a place,  but  it  was  too  bitterly  cold  to 
sup  out  of  doors,  and  hunger  prevailed  over 
fastidious  qualms.  After  supper  the  Wons 
washed  their  own  dishes  and  put  their  food 
carefully  away,  but  the  other  party  strolled  out 
to  enjoy  the  moonlight  and  left  their  kit  to 
be  looked  after  by  a Chinese  servant,  who 
dumped  the  dishes,  etc.,  into  a greasy  pan  of  half 
cold  water,  and  wiped  them  carefully  on  his 
skirt.  They  spread  their  rugs  ruefully  on  a sort 
of  dirty,  foul  smelling  shelf  in  the  wall,  and  fell 
asleep,  as  people  will,  even  decent  Americans,  in 
such  an  unseemly,  loathsome  place,  after  travel- 
ling all  day  long  in  the  open  air,  in  November, 
Next  morning  the  young  missionary,  who  was 
their  guide,  told  them  they  must  not  wait  for 


266  To  Japan  and  China 

breakfast,  but  travel  right  on,  in  order  to  reach 
their  destination  before  dark  that  night,  espe- 
cially as  an  early  reception  had  been  arranged 
for  them  by  all  the  missionaries  of  Tung  Chow. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Won  listened  to  their  injunction 
sorely  ill-content.  They  were  not  of  that  variety 
of,  shall  I say  athletes,  who  rejoiced  in  walking, 
working  or  doing  anything  else  on  empty  stom- 
achs, but  were  extremely  dependent  on  good  and 
regular  supplies  of  provender,  especially  could 
neither  of  them  endure  to  begin  the  day  fasting, 
and  any  necessity  compelling  thereto,  invariably 
resulted  in  headache,  nerves  and  unfitness  for 
work.  But  the  fiat  had  gone  forth,  so  the 
Captain  and  his  family  only  indulged  in  a 
surreptitious  cup  of  tea,  and  two  or  three  crack- 
ers hastily  unpacked  and  eaten  as  they  went. 
At  noon,  they  stopped  at  an  inn  dirtier  than  the 
former.  A perfect  catacomb  of  little  black,  air- 
less rooms,  opening  each  into  some  other,  but 
none  except  the  outer  one  opening  to  any  fresh 
air.  Here  generations  of  dirty  natives  of  the 
poorest  class  had  slept,  eaten  and  probably 
died,  without  the  place  ever  having  been  once 
cleaned. 

Nature  itself  rebelled,  the  odours  were  too 
overwhelming  for  American  flesh  to  endure,  and 
finding  a sunny  spot  out  of  doors,  they  took  a 
hasty  lunch  from  their  baskets  and  tin  cans,  and 
hurried  on  their  way.  About  six  o’clock  they 


Genuinely  Hungry  267 

arrived  at  the  gray  town  of  Tung  Chow,  than 
which  a drearier,  Mrs.  Won  thought  she  had 
never  beheld. 

The  city  walls  were  of  gray,  the  narrow  streets 
ran  between  walls  eight  or  ten  feet  high,  of  cold, 
gray  brick,  all  the  houses  were  gray  brick  after 
one  pattern,  not  a tree,  not  a hill,  not  a bit  of 
grass,  or  a hint  of  bright  colour  relieved  the  eye. 
Mrs.  Won  wondered  whether  the  sunsets  were 
gray  brick,  too ; but  as  the  high  walls  hid  this 
indecorous  exhibition  of  gayety  in  the  skies,  it 
might  as  well  have  been  gray  as  far  as  the 
citizens  of  that  town  were  concerned.  They 
were  most  kindly  and  cordially  welcomed  by  the 
good  doctor  and  his  family  who  had  offered  their 
hospitality  to  the  visitors,  and  sent  at  once  to 
their  rooms  to  prepare  for  the  reception  to  be 
held  at  the  girls’  school.  But  the  Wons  were 
hungry,  famished,  ravenous.  No  breakfast,  a 
hurried  “pick-up-lunch''  a long  day  in  bracing 
November  winds,  had  brought  them  to  the  point 
where  a good  dinner  was  the  chief  end  of  man, 
and  the  lack  of  it  threatened  being  his  last  end  ; 
but  nothing  was  said  of  dinner.  And  this  re- 
ception, could  it  be  possible  they  were  expected 
to  stay  their  failing  powers  on  refreshments  ? 
Gloomy  visions  of  wafers  and  tea  haunted  their 
hunger  fevered  brains.  Go  to.  The  prospect  was 
dark.  It  was  now  long  after  six,  alas ! However, 
they  at  length  found  themselves  in  the  pleasant 


268  To  Japan  and  China 

parlours  of  the  girls’  school,  receiving  a warm 
welcome,  but  no  dinner.  One  little  group  and 
another  arrived,  the  room  was  filling  fast,  Mrs. 
Won’s  spirits  fell  to  zero.  A dinner  was  im- 
possible for  so  many,  it  must  be  that  merely  re- 
freshments were  intended ; and  sure  enough  in  a 
few  minutes  napkins  and  plates  were  passed. 
But  anxiety  was  soon  dispelled ; they  were  not 
to  be  starved.  Such  delicious  rolls  and  sand- 
wiches, cold  meats,  salads,  tea,  chocolate  and 
cake,  in  merciful  abundance,  were  forced  upon 
them,  that  even  the  throes  of  such  hunger  as 
theirs  were  appeased. 

In  the  two  or  three  days,  which  was  all  that  they 
had  to  spend,  they  enjoyed  and  learned  much, 
in  hearing  the  experiences  of  the  workers,  study- 
ing their  methods,  and  especially  in  looking  into 
their  wonderful  schools,  conducted  by  such  men 
as  Dr.  Mateer  and  Dr.  Hayes. 

They  returned  to  Cheefoo  and  Seoul  wiser,  as 
well  as  fully  recuperated,  ready  for  the  year’s 
work.  But  Mrs.  Won  never  thought  of  Tung 
Chow  without  a vision  of  those  gloomy,  dull, 
gray  brick  houses  and  walls,  with  no  vista,  no 
vision,  no  sunset,  no  sunshine,  nothing  but  hard, 
straight  lines,  dullness  and  gloom,  and  prayed 
God  to  be  merciful  to  His  servants  in  China,  and 
bless  them  with  a double  portion  of  His  joy. 
Before  they  left  Cheefoo,  the  Captain  received  a 
letter  from  the  bank  in  Shanghai,  telling  him 


The  Other  Mr.  Won 


that  they  had  made  a mistake  between  his  ac- 
count and  that  of  another  Mr.  Won,  a merchant 
in  North  China,  and  that  the  money  he  had  so 
gleefully  appropriated,  at  their  bidding,  was  the 
other  man! s ! 

Some  men  in  his  circumstances  would  have 
torn  their  hair  and  rent  their  garments  at  such 
news  as  this;  not  so  the  Captain.  It  took  a 
great  deal  to  distract  his  peace  of  mind,  his 
absolute  trust  in  His  Father’s  care  for  even  the 
smallest  things,  and  the  event  always  proved  he 
was  right.  In  this  instance,  as  usual,  money 
coming  from  an  entirely  unexpected  source  more 
than  covered  the  whole  sum  required,  and  every- 
thing was  well  as  usual  with  the  Wons. 


XII 


HOUSEKEEPING 

In  a very  short  time  after  their  return  from 
Cheefoo,  Harry  and  his  folks  started  off  for  an- 
other long  trip  into  the  interior  of  Korea,  to 
visit  the  many  little  groups  of  native  Christians, 
the  sheep  who  needed  looking  after,  and  those 
other  sheep  not  yet  in  the  fold.  This  time  a 
young  married  couple,  new  missionaries,  were 
going  with  them  to  study  methods  of  work,  the 
people  and  country. 

This  pair  had  only  been  in  the  country  a very 
little  while,  and  the  little  bride,  who  was  barely 
twenty,  had  to  begin  to  learn  some  of  the 
difficulties  of  eastern  life  and  housekeeping 
very  early. 

In  the  first  place,  like  the  Wons,  they  left 
America  with  the  conviction  that  their  only  food 
would  be  rice,  and  rice  Mrs.  Brown  abhorred. 

Some  way,  of  course,  would  be  found  ; but 
how  she  was  to  live  on  it  she  couldn’t  see  ; so 
when  they  reached  Japan  and  found  they  could 
buy  raisins,  she  thought  she  might  eat  this 
starchy  article  if  sufficiently  mixed  with  raisins 
of  which  forthwith  they  bought  a great  many 
pounds,  and  in  the  summer  / And  not  in  sealed 

370 


Raisins  and  Crackers 


271 


tins  ! For,  alas,  they  had  not  learned  that  fruit 
that  comes  through  the  tropics  and  across  oceans 
to  Korea  must  all  be  in  sealed  tins  in  the  summer, 
Mrs,  Won  always  sealed  hers  up  in  Mason’s  jars 
as  soon  as  it  came,  even  in  winter.  So  w'hen 
these  raisins  that  took  such  a lot  out  of  the  little 
salary  arrived,  they  were  in  a dreadful  way,  and 
poor  little  lady  had  a task  almost  like  the  poor 
princess  in  the  fairy  tale  to  go  over  all  those 
thousands  picking  out  all  that  was  bad,  cleaning 
and  separating,  with  patience.  Such  a weari- 
some work. 

She  didn’t  think  to  ask  anybody  what  to  do, 
and  didn’t  seal  them  up  even  then  ; and  a few 
weeks  later,  lo  they  were  worse  than  ever,  and 
had  to  be  thrown  away,  mixed  with  tears. 

Besides  raisins,  they  bought  in  Japan  two  im- 
mense packing  cases,  at  least  three  feet  square 
each ; but  some  rascally  foreign  trader  cheated 
them,  and  when  the  cases  were  opened  in  Korea 
they  turned  out  to  be  all  green  and  mouldy, 
quite  entirely  spoiled,  and  weren’t  even  fit  to 
kindle  fires.  And  the  freight  across  from  Japan 
and  up  to  Seoul,  had  cost  almost  as  much  as 
the  crackers ! 

They  had  bought  a cook  stove  in  Japan,  and 
a few  pretty  China  things,  a tea  set,  and  plates 
and  dishes,  with  some  kitchen  utensils.  Just  as 
few  and  simple  as  possible,  and  put  them  all  into 
the  hands  of  an  experienced  English  shipping 


2~J2  Housekeeping 

agent  to  pack  for  them,  they  being  so  new  and 
inexperienced  in  such  matters.  He  said  he’d 
pack  them  carefully,  but  when  they  reached 
Korea  not  a whole  dish  was  to  be  found  in  the 
entire  assortment  of  broken  China,  and  even 
the  stove  was  in  little  bits. 

Stoves  always  are  that  way  though.  I doubt 
if  there  is  a single  unbroken  kitchen  stove 
among  all  the  mission  homes  in  Korea.  Packers 
in  America  and  otherwhere,  seem  to  think  that 
freight  is  carried  to  the  Orient  on  flowery  beds 
of  ease,  but  when  it  reaches  there,  appearances 
would  w'arrant  the  conclusion  that  the  last  part 
of  the  stanza  would  better  describe  the  true 
state  of  affairs : namely  that  they  “ had  fought 
to  win  the  prize  and  sailed  through  bloody 
seas.” 

The  packers  seem  to  have  the  common  con- 
viction that  it  is  a good  thing  for  a stove  to  have 
the  covers,  legs  and  other  small  loose  articles 
placed  carelessly  in  the  ovens,  to  rattle  around 
as  lively  as  possible.  They  all  do  that  and  it  is 
universally  successful  in  breaking  the  stove.  If 
it  is  in  a condition  w'hich  admits  of  mending,  the 
owner  generally  thinks  himself  lucky,  but  oh,  if 
he  could  only  shy  that  stove  back  across  the 
Pacific  at  the  packers ! Well,  it  wouldn’t  do,  it 
wouldn’t  be  missionary,  but  I’m  afraid  there  are 
times  when  he’d  like  to  do  it  if  he  could. 

Those  packers  enjoy  sending  harmoniums 


The  Domestic  Problem  273 

and  pianos,  too.  They  often  arrive  in  kindling 
wood,  but  to  return  to  Mrs,  Brown. 

They  patched  up  their  broken  stove  as  well  as 
they  could,  and  started  out  on  their  housekeep- 
ing experiences.  Their  cook  \vas  a very  green 
Korean  young  man,  and  their  trials  were  many. 
It  wasn’t  so  much  his  smoking  and  combing  his 
hair  in  the  kitchen,  and  cooking  vile  smelling 
messes  of  his  own  food.  He  would  insist  on 
using  all  the  soap  for  his  own  clothes  and  putting 
the  kitchen  utensils  away  greasy.  The  potatoes, 
eggs,  and  sweet  milk  disappeared  wdth  mar- 
vellous rapidity ; the  family  were  frightened  at 
the  amount  they  w^ere  consuming.  One  day  the 
little  puin  ‘ found  him  with  the  kitchen  towel  tied 
round  his  head  to  keep  off  the  dust,  and  once 
(that  was  the  time  she  had  hysterics)  she  saw 
him  use  the  dish-cloth  pocket  handkerchief-wise. 
She  was  silly,  you  say,  but  she  saw  it,  and  it  was 
her  dish-cloth  ! 

When  she  came  in  the  sphere  of  his  usefulness 
and  found  him  just  eating  some  of  the  stew  out 
of  the  kettle,  and  when  with  his  mouth  full  of 
hot  meat  and  potato,  he  couldn’t  answer  her 
charge,  she  had  a slight  revenge. 

Then  there  was  the  jelly.  She  had  never 
made  jelly  before,  but  an  old  housekeeper  told 
her  what  to  do,  and  some  delicious  looking 
Korean  red  raspberries  came,  so  she  bought 

• Lady. 


2/4  Housekeeping 

them  all,  a very  large  quantity,  and  with  many 
interruptions  went  through  the  stages  of  pre- 
paring the  fruit,  the  sugar  and  the  jelly  bags, 
boiled  the  strained  juice,  and  then,  the  last 
critical  moment  for  adding  the  sugar  came  and 
all  was  well.  She  had  been  told  to  try  the  syrup 
after  it  had  boiled  three  or  four  minutes  with  the 
sugar,  in  a cup  of  cold  water,  which  she  sent  her 
cook  running  to  the  well  to  bring  very  cold. 
Back  came  the  enthusiastic  neophite,  with  a 
large  quart  dipper  full,  and  without  a moment’s 
delay,  or  losing  one  drop,  poured  it  all  into  that 
jelly ! 

Every  housekeeper  knows  what  that  meant  to 
that  poor  young  wife.  Disaster,  disappointment, 
failure,  loss,  and  after  a long  day’s  hard  work  ! 

So  Mrs.  Won,  to  comfort  her,  told  her  some  of 
her  early  experiences.  How,  having  invited  some 
high  Korean  officials  to  dinner,  and  this  the  first 
time  she  ever  tried  to  give  a large  dinner  party, 
right  in  the  midst  of  preparations  the  cook  said 
his  wife  was  very  sick  and  he  had  to  be  allowed 
to  go  home,  and  the  boy  (that’s  the  housemaid) 
asked  to  go  off  for  his  morning  meal.  No  mat- 
ter what  happens,  if  you  are  in  the  middle  of 
cleaning  out  the  dining  room,  or  there  should  be 
an  earthquake,  or  fire,  or  a death  in  the  family, 
the  boy  must  be  aw'ay  from  one  to  two  hours 
eating,  between  half-past  ten  and  half-past  twelve. 
So  there  she  was  alone,  struggling  with  the  aid 


A Disastrous  Dinner  275 

of  a cook-book  and  unaccustomed  hands,  with 
six  or  seven  courses,  when  the  door-bell  rang, 
and  she  had  to  leave  everything  with  that  per- 
verse disposition  to  ruin  itself  which  all  food  on 
the  stove  has,  and  open  the  door. 

There  stood  one  of  the  invited  guests  for  that 
evening.  He  politely  asked  to  see  Mr.  Won, 
and  on  being  told  that  he  was  out,  calmly  walked 
in,  seated  himself  with  dignity  and  deliberation, 
and  said  he  would  pay  his  respects  instead  to 
Mrs.  Won.  He  regretted  extremely  not  being 
able  to  be  present  that  evening  at  the  dinner, 
and  so  he  had  come  now  instead.  Mrs.  Won 
wondered  despairingly  what  was  going  on  in  the 
kitchen,  and  tried  to  compose  herself  to  treat  him 
with  politeness  and  deference.  After  staying 
near  an  hour  he  expressed  a desire  to  see  the 
house,  so  he  had  to  be  conducted  through  ever}'- 
room,  and  everything  described  and  explained  as 
far  as  her  defective  Korean  would  go.  Before  it 
was  quite  over,  her  knight  errant  came  in  and 
took  him  off  her  hands.  No  irreparable  damage 
was  done,  an  elaborate  dinner  was  prepared ; 
then  quite  tired  out  she  dressed,  prepared  to 
meet  the  guests  who  had  all  accepted,  but  who 
never  came.  The  dinner  hour  passed,  they  waited 
another  hour,  still  no  arrivals,  then  they  remem- 
bered the  parable  of  the  wedding,  and  sent  for 
the  schoolboys  who  trooped  joyously  in  without 
any  delay  and  ate  with  an  appetite  and  an  appre- 


276  Housekeeping 

ciation  which  made  the  Wons  only  delighted  at 
what  had  seemed  so  trying  a result  of  their  at- 
tempt to  win  the  high  class  men.  Next  day 
various  excuses  came,  and  they  discovered  that 
to  invite  Korean  nobles,  who  had  not  yet  learned 
rules  of  foreign  etiquette,  to  dinner,  was  an  act 
of  more  than  doubtful  expediency,  and  never 
again  asked  more  than  one  or  two  at  a time  with 
plenty  of  reliable  foreigners  as  a standby. 

Then  there  was  the  bread  making  experience ; 
when  it  was  all  to  be  learned,  and  there  wasn’t 
any  yeast,  and  all  the  cook  books  told  you  to 
start  yeast  with  yeast,  and  when  that  was  sur- 
mounted, the  bread  set  at  seven,  before  cook 
left  for  home  every  night,  would  sour  before  he 
came  at  six  in  the  morning. 

And  then  there  was  the  time  teaching  them  to 
launder  the  clothes,  which  she  never  had  learned 
herself,  and  when  with  written  directions  they 
had  laboured  through  the  whole  day,  and  strug- 
gled through  the  mysteries  of  starch  making, 
and  were  just  in  the  frightfully  serious  matter  of 
starching  and  blueing  the  table-cloths,  which  had 
several  indigo  spots  on  them  and  had  to  be 
rinsed  again,  foreign  ladies  came  in  to  call,  and 
it  was  getting  dark,  and  they  might  mildew  (the 
table-cloths),  oh,  it  was  comedy  now,  but  it  was 
tragedy  then ! 

Then  there  were  other  instances  of  jelly  and 
preserve  making,  in  the  very  middle  of  which 


A Glad  Relief 


277 


crowds  of  Korean  women  came  in,  and  things 
had  to  be  left  in  order  to  prescribe  for  dyspepsia 
when  “ the  food  wouldn’t  go  down  and  wouldn’t 
come  up,”  or  “ a wind  from  the  stomach  arose 
and  made  the  eyes  sore.”  Yes,  there  were  plenty 
of  these  reminiscences  to  assure  Mrs.  Brown  that 
her  lot  was  the  common  lot  of  all  beginners,  that 
every  one  could  sympathize  with  her,  and  that 
she  might  take  heart  again,  seeing  the  footprints 
of  her  older  sisters  in  the  sands  of  household  ex- 
periences. 

But  now  they  were  going  together  for  a long 
country  trip,  and  the  Wons’  good  little  cook 
would  prepare  all  the  food,  and  they  would  be 
for  weeks  in  touch  only  with  God  and  His  handi- 
work, and  honest  sturdy  country  people. 

They  walked  and  rode  all  day  in  the  delight- 
ful, stimulating,  fresh  air,  except  when  in  the 
towns  or  large  villages,  where  they,  the  women, 
were  shut  in  little  dark  rooms,  and  visited  by 
crowds  of  wildly  curious  Korean  women,  who 
most  of  them  cared  a great  deal  more  about 
studying  their  clothes  and  wondering  over  their 
looks,  and  asking  all  sorts  of  questions  of  the 
most  impertinent  character,  than  about  hearing 
of  a foreign  religion. 

Some  of  them  had  heard  strange  things  of 
this  religion.  “ One  must  be  careful.  There 
was  witchcraft  in  it.  If  you  read  one  of  their 
books  through  you  had  to  believe,  in  spite  of 


278  Housekeeping 

yourself,  and  there  was  a medicine,  too,  which  if 
you  once  tasted  you  were  their  victim.” 

“So  one  must  be  careful.  It  was  truly,  a 
wonderful  kugung  to  see  the  people  with  their 
white  faces  that  weren’t  powdered,  and  their 
peculiar  noses  and  eyes.” 

“ It  was  dangerously  fascinating,  so  many 
strange,  delightful  things,  and  what  soft  hands 
the  women  had!”  “They’re  all  alike  soft  and 
satiny  just  like  baby’s  hands.”  “ Those  foreign 
women  looked  respectable  enough,  quiet  and 
modest,  but  of  course  that  could  hardly  be, 
travelling  all  around  preaching  like  that.” 
When  they  caught  a little  of  what  was  be- 
ing said  it  seemed  so  strange  and  beautiful 
and  tempting,  they  were  frightened.  “ Come, 
let’s  go,”  and  like  a flock  of  frightened  pidgeons 
they  would  all  hurry  out,  before  the  charm  could 
work.  But  here  and  there  a seed  took  root,  a 
sympathetic  smile  and  hand  pressure,  a book,  a 
tract,  a child  healed,  a song,  just  a little  seed 
here  and  there  rooted,  and  in  time  sprang  up. 

How  those  American  hearts  yearned  over  the 
poor  women  so  near  enfranchisement,  light,  hope, 
glory,  clinging  to  the  filthy  tattered  remnants  of 
old  dead  faith,  clinging  to  their  fetters,  loving 
the  darkness  in  which  they  had  lived  a half  dead 
life  so  long,  turning  their  backs  on  happiness 
and  life.  “ Ye  will  not  come  unto  Me  that  ye 
might  have  life.” 


A Real  Welcome  279 

But  in  places  where  the  little  groups  of  Chris- 
tians were  found  was  always  the  same  overjoyed, 
almost  adoring  welcome.  By  them,  they  seemed 
to  be  regarded  as  almost  more  than  human. 
They  were  like  angels  who  had  come  to  them 
with  the  news  of  that  wonderful  Hope  that 
opened  out  vistas  of  eternity  and  heavenly 
glory. 

Mrs.  Won  always  returned  to  Seoul  in  an  ex- 
tremely low  and  humble  state  of  mind.  In  vil- 
lage after  village,  woman  after  woman,  taking 
her  hand  in  a bony  grip  like  a vise,  and  looking 
at  her  with  a sorrowful  gaze  would  say,  “ Alas, 
how  old  you’ve  grown  since  we  last  saw  you  ! ” 
or,  “ How  sick  and  feeble  you  look.”  “ How 
grieved  we  are  to  see  how  sick  and  old  you  are 
growing ! ” or,  “ What  trials  you  have  endured 
for  us,  how  dried  up  you  are ! ” This  is  all  to 
show  their  affection  and  concern,  and,  as  they 
believe  it  has  all  come  through  the  hardships 
undergone  to  carry  them  the  gospel,  it  is  the 
highest  honour  and  praise  in  their  power  to  be- 
stow. Mrs.  Won  found,  too,  on  this  trip  that 
they  talked  in  the  same  way  to  Mrs.  Brown 
who  was  twenty,  and  had  never  been  sick  and 
was  fresh  as  a daisy  ; so  she  didn’t  take  it  to  heart 
so  much  any  more.  As  for  Harry,  by  the  time 
he  was  twelve  they  began  asking  if  he  was 
married,  why  not,  and  when  and  to  whom  he 
meant  to  be,  in  a way  that  was  highly  embar- 


28o  Housekeeping 

rassing  to  the  young  man  who  had  only  very 
recently  and  reluctantly  given  up  the  idea  of 
marrying  his  mother,  whom  he  had  insisted  from 
his  third  year  should  be  his  only  wife. 

He  walked  the  streets  with  a following  of  at 
least  twenty-five  to  fifty  boys,  all  eager  to  play 
with  him  and  to  be  his  henchman  to  any  extent. 
The  Christians  were,  of  course,  the  favoured 
parties,  and  the  envy  of  all  the  rest.  With  them 
there  were  games  of  prisoner’s  base,  leap-frog, 
tag,  hide  and  seek,  and  all  the  other  games 
boys  like. 

One  day  the  party  divided.  Pastor  Won  had 
to  go  far  off  the  road  to  a little  hamlet  up  in  the 
mountains  where  there  were  only  a little  handful 
of  sheep,  and  no  room  for  so  many  to  sleep  and 
eat,  only  about  three  little  huts  altogether ; so  he 
went  one  way,  and  the  Browns,  Mrs.  Won  and 
Harry,  with  all  the  chair  coolies,  pack  ponies  and 
mapoos  went  another.  Harry  was  on  horseback 
this  time,  when  he  wasn’t  trotting  on  his  own 
little  legs ; Mr.  Brown  was  walking,  too,  and 
the  two  women  were  in  chairs,  jogged  along 
with  a good  deal  of  jolting  before  night,  for  the 
road  was  rough  and  long.  By  and  by  the  two 
Christian  helpers  who  were  leading,  came  to 
Mrs.  Won  and  said  they  would  hurry  on  and 
see  that  rooms  were  warmed  and  rice  prepared 
and  welcome  ready,  to  which  she  gave  assent, 
and  they  hurried  off,  glad  to  be  rid  of  the  slow 


A Dismal  Outlook 


281 


going  procession.  On  the  men  plodded,  through 
mud  and  mire,  over  hill  and  dale,  across  slippery 
paddy-fields  and  through  tangled  bits  of  wood, 
now  with  the  frequent  rests,  uncomfortable  mo- 
tion and  discontented  grumblings  which  showed 
they  were  both  hungry  and  tired. 

At  last,  just  when  dusk  was  falling,  and  their 
destination  was  only  sim  nee  (three  miles)  away, 
according  to  the  last  traveller  questioned,  there 
was  a discussion  among  the  coolies,  accusations 
and  recriminations,  and  it  turned  out  that  they 
had  lost  the  way  among  all  the  windings  of  the 
network  of  little  footpaths,  had  come  a long 
distance  wrong,  and  were  not  at  all  sure  how  to 
go  right.  To  be  lost  on  a wide  plain  with  no 
village  in  sight,  just  at  dark,  with  a bitter  night 
in  sharp  late  November,  just  closing  down,  no 
fires,  no  shelter,  no  warm  food,  was  not  an 
agreeable  prospect.  The  coolies  complained 
loudly,  but  everybody  intended  to  reach  those 
warm  rooms  and  that  hot  rice  that  night,  and 
set  about  it  with  energy.  But  no  matter  how 
many  people  they  asked,  it  was  always  “ sim 
nee  ” to  that  village,  no  more,  no  less,  although 
they  had  gone  several  times  “ sim  nee  ” as  they 
could  all  vouch. 

At  length  they  came  to  a place  where  two 
ways  parted,  and  here  a whispered  consultation 
was  held  by  the  coolies,  the  import  of  which 
Mrs.  Won  insisted  on  hearing. 


282 


Housekeeping 


Faithful  old  Kim,  who  was  her  only  servant 
among  the  bearers,  told  her  that  there  was  now 
a river  to  be  crossed  in  a little  while,  and  that 
they  had  been  discussing  whether  to  cross  over 
the  bridge  which  was  near,  or  the  ford  which 
was  far,  and  that  the  tired  chair  coolies  refused 
to  take  the  ford,  since  they  could  not  then  reach 
the  village  before  nine  or  ten  o’clock.  “ But  if 
we  go  over  the  bridge,  then  our  little  son  on  his 
pony  would  have  to  be  separated  from  our  party 
and  go  by  the  ford  would  he  not?”  “Yes, 
lady.”  “ And  is  not  that  the  bridge,  the  high, 
long,  very  narrow  one  which  was  broken,  and 
which  I had  such  trouble  in  crossing  once  be- 
fore in  the  daytime?”  “Yes,  lady.”  “And 
now  we  have  only  one  poor  lantern,  the  night 
is  very  black,  my  husband  is  far  away,  only  this 
newly  come  young  gentleman  with  us,  do  you 
think  I will  trust  myself  on  that  bridge,  or  allow 
my  little  boy  to  be  taken  one  road  and  I an- 
other, thus,  at  night,  among  what  sort  of  natives 
I do  not  know?  What  evil  noise,  what  bad 
work  is  this?  Tell  them  I will  not  cross  the 
bridge.” 

Hereupon  arose  loud  and  angry  remonstrances 
from  the  coolies.  Some  threw  themselves  on 
the  ground  and  declared  they  were  dying,  some 
went  further  and  solemnly  asserted  they  had 
died  some  time  ago.  “That  is  well,”  said 
Mrs.  Won  ; “now  the  world  will  be  more  peace- 


Cross  Coolies 


283 

ful  and  blessed,  and  we  shall  not  have  you  to 
feed.”  But  the  dying  and  dead  were  sufficiently 
obstinate  for  very  much  alive  men,  and  proved 
it  by  some  very  active  metaphorical  kicking. 

They  declared  they  were  too  hungry  to  travel, 
and  positively  refused  to  stir  unless  consent  to 
the  bridge  was  given.  Now  Mrs.  Won  knew 
that  bridge  only  too  well.  It  was  not  more  than 
a foot  wide,  too  narrow  for  any  pony  to  cross, 
and  it  was  more  than  likely  to  be  broken  in  the 
middle,  and  even  should  she  succeed,  with  much 
danger  and  terror  in  crossing,  her  little  one 
would  be  wandering,  how  many  hours  she 
knew  not  on  the  moors,  with  strange  hired  men, 
and  their  bedding  and  food  might  not  arrive  all 
night.  So  she,  too,  put  her  foot  down  and  kept 
it  there,  and  with  Mr.  Brown  who  hadn’t  much 
Korean,  but  plenty  of  firmness  and  good  sense, 
they  carried  their  point  against  the  angry  coolies, 
who  having  found  out  there  was  no  help  for  it, 
set  to,  with  grumblings  many  and  loud,  and 
trotted  on  through  the  dark  to  the  ford.  “ Sim 
nee"  always,  as  on  and  on  they  went.  All  of 
them  hungry  and  more  or  less  cross,  and  grow- 
ing momently  more  and  more  exhausted. 
Harry  had  succumbed  long  ago,  and  was  sound 
asleep  on  his  pony,  and  obliged  to  be  held  on, 
at  either  side,  his  poor  head  bobbing  about  in  a 
pitiful  way,  there  being  no  room  in  either  of  the 
chairs,  nor  would  the  tired  and  cross  coolies 


284  Housekeeping 

have  listened  for  an  instant  to  any  proposal  of 
their  carrying  him  as  well  as  his  mamma.  The 
Wons  had  thought  to  save  mission  itinerating 
appropriation  by  bringing  him  on  a pony 
instead  of  a chair,  which  is  nearly  twice  the  ex- 
pense, but  it  was  hard  work  that  night.  How- 
ever, at  about  ten  o’clock  the  welcome  lights  of 
Taiton  appeared ; everybody  did  their  best  to 
make  them  comfortable ; there  were  shining 
faces  of  glad  Christians,  warm  rooms  and  food, 
and  soon  after  peaceful  rest  on  their  own  cots 
and  rugs.  The  Korean  chair  coolie  is  a quantity 
to  be  counted  with,  not  on  every  time.  He  is 
the  most  independent  creature  in  existence,  and 
the  most  greedy  and  voracious.  He  is  never 
satisfied,  and  you  are  never  sure  until  you  are 
through  with  him  that  he  will  stick  to  his 
bargain.  He  may  have  had  no  breakfast  or  no 
dinner,  and  his  family  may  be  starving,  but  if 
you  give  him  one  fifth  of  a cent  less  than  he  had 
decided  to  extort,  he  will  hand  the  whole  amount 
back,  and  walk  off  unpaid  to  give  you  a black 
name  among  his  kind.  He  will  dicker  for 
hours,  and  go  off  at  the  last  minute,  leaving  you 
in  the  lurch.  The  Korean  chair  coolie  is  in 
many  respects  the  Irishman  of  the  East,  easy- 
going, good-natured,  but  ready  for  and  enjoying 
a fight,  in  which  loud  talk  has  its  proper  share, 
prone  to  stop  at  every  seiil  shop,  getting  as 
tipsy  as  his  limited  amount  of  cash  will  allow, 


Coolie  Nature 


285 

no  idea  of  telling  the  truth  where  it  is  possible 
to  tell  a lie,  quickly  touched  by  kindness  and 
sympathy,  quite  overwhelmed  if  you  show  in- 
terest in  his  troubles,  commonly  fond  of  a joke 
or  a good  story,  loving  his  wife  and  little  ones 
fondly,  thoughtless  of  anything  beyond  to-day’s 
food  and  drink,  he  belongs  to  a happy-go-lucky 
class  of  men,  with  no  more  thought  or  knowl- 
edge of  the  future  alas  than  the  leaves  on  the 
trees. 

They  all  liked  Pastor  Won  because  he  chatted 
and  joked  with  them,  laughed  at  their  stories, 
abused  them  roundly,  but  treated  them  like 
brothers. 

At  one  of  the  stopping  places,  among  the  ex- 
periences told  by  the  Christians,  was  one  related 
by  a converted  drunkard.  He  said  he  had  for 
years  made  his  living  by  gambling,  had  been  a 
confirmed  drunkard,  and  engaged  in  every  kind 
of  evil  practice.  One  day  as  he  was  walking 
through  the  streets  of  Song  Do,  he  saw  on  one 
of  the  main  thoroughfares,  standing  in  the 
middle  of  a crowd,  a blind  preacher,  who  in 
terrifying  language  was  describing  the  wrath  of 
God  against  sinners  and  the  fate  that  awaited 
those  who  were  unrepentant. 

“ His  long  arm  was  outstretched,  his  lean 
finger  pointed  me  out,  and  his  sightless  eyes 
were  fixed  on  my  face,”  said  the  man.  Smitten 
to  the  heart,  he  made  his  way  to  the  speaker 


286  Housekeeping 

and  asked  why  he  had  singled  him  out  from  all 
the  crowd,  by  his  words  and  gestures.  “ Be- 
cause you  are  the  yuan  I ” said  the  wise  preacher. 
“ Now,”  said  he,  ” the  only  thing  is  to  go  at  once, 
make  confession,  take  Jesus  as  your  Saviour  and 
begin  to  be  a Christian.”  ” But  I must  study 
many  books,  and  repent  a long  time  first,”  said 
the  sinner.  “No,”  said  the  old  man,  “nothing 
of  the  kind,  you  must  repent  at  once  if  you 
would  be  saved  and  become  a Christian  now.” 
In  implicit  faith  the  man  obeyed,  felt  his  burden 
of  fear  and  sin  gone,  and  became  from  that  day 
a changed  man.  He  now  began  to  preach  the 
gospel  to  everybody  he  knew,  and  first  of  all 
went  to  his  old  mother  who  sternly  rebuked 
him. 

“ What ! ” said  she,  “ have  I borne  with  you  so 
long  in  all  your  wickedness,  when  you  have 
broken  my  heart  over  and  again,  and  now  you 
come  and  ask  me  to  tolerate  and  even  join  with 
you  in  this  crime  of  casting  off  our  ancient 
religion,  and  doing  despite  to  our  ancestors? 
Never  will  I have  anything  to  do  with  this 
foreign  religion.” 

Nevertheless,  she  saw  her  son  had  become  a 
changed  man,  and  wondered  at  the  power 
which  had  wrought  this  miracle,  and  watching 
day  by  day,  saw  nothing  but  good  as  its  fruits. 
At  last  a remarkable  incident  won  her  com- 
pletely. 


A Useful  Fall 


287 

The  rainy  season  had  commenced,  and  after  a 
long  and  terrible  downpour,  part  of  the  wall  of 
their  poor  hut  fell,  one  Sunday,  The  old  woman 
started  to  try  to  repair  the  damage  in  some 
temporary  fashion,  but  her  son  seizing  her  arm, 
said,  “ No,  mother,  not  on  Sunday,”  She  strug- 
gled to  release  herself,  but  he  pulled  her  away 
by  main  force,  just  as  the  roof  fell,  and  barely 
saving  her  life, 

“That,”  said  she,  “ was  your  God  who  saved 
me  against  my  will ; now  I will  worship  only 
Him  and  believe  in  Him  always,”  So  now 
mother  and  son  are  both  happy  members  of  the 
Methodist  church. 

At  one  of  the  Christian  villages  the  pastor 
was  asked  to  perform  a wedding  ceremony. 
They  were  poor  people,  and  could  not  afford  to 
have  all  the  fine  clothes  and  abundance  of 
dainties  I have  described,  and  more  they  were 
forced  to  hurry  on  the  wedding  because  the 
pastor  could  not  wait  for  long  preparations  or 
return  that  way  as  they  had  hoped.  So  every- 
thing was  hastened.  The  neighbours  helped, 
and  as  the  wedding  was  between  an  orphan 
relative  living  in  the  house  and  the  eldest  son, 
both  the  boy’s  and  girl’s  wedding  garments  had 
to  be  made  in  short  order ; but  the  friendly 
neighbours  and  relatives  all  took  hold  and 
helped,  Mrs,  Won  brought  out  her  thimble  and 
helped,  to  show  them  she  was  one  of  them,  and 


288  Housekeeping 

weave  a little  thread  in  the  tie  that  bound  them 
together,  although  her  lame  fingers  were  of  not 
much  use  for  neat  and  dextrous  work.  The 
bride  was  a tall,  rosy,  wholesome  looking  coun- 
try girl,  with  that  simple,  honest,  modest  look  so 
many  of  the  young  peasant  women  have.  The 
boy  was  small  for  his  age  which  was  something 
over  twenty. 

The  missionaries  will  not  marry  the  Christian 
boys  under  eighteen,  and  the  girls  must  be  at 
least  sixteen.  The  people  like  the  Christian 
service,  the  vows  of  mutual  devotion  and  the 
ring  much  better  than  their  old  forms,  and  are 
beginning  to  leave  off  the  defacing  white  paste 
and  red  paint  which  make  a fair  young  face  look 
so  hideous  and  ghastly. 

This  poor  little  bride  had  no  ornaments,  and 
her  dress  was  comparatively  very  plain,  but  it 
was  so  much  finer  than  her  every-day  attire,  she 
seemed  to  feel  more  than  satisfied,  and  then  it 
was  a great  deal  to  be  married  by  the  pastor 
himself. 

Before  their  trip  was  half  over,  they  reached  a 
place  in  the  interior  where  no  chair  coolies  could 
be  hired,  but  here  the  Christians  offered  to  carry 
the  chairs  and  the  loads,  and  though  unac- 
customed to  such  work,  staggered  along  with  the 
best  will  in  the  world.  Mrs.  Won’s  heart  over- 
flowed with  gratitude  and  affection,  to  think  of 
these  kind  people  undertaking  such  work,  which 


Kind  But  Rough  289 

to  the  untrained  is  very  severe,  for  her.  If  she 
had  not  been  lame  and  rather  weak,  she  w'ould 
far  rather  have  walked,  and  as  it  was,  it  was  no 
easy  riding,  with  the  chair  tipping  now  this  way 
now  that,  now  forward,  now  back,  and  shaking 
worse  than  a schenza  (as  they  didn’t  understand 
keeping  step),  and  then  being  bounced  down  on 
the  ground  every  few  minutes  when  the  tired 
men  could  stand  it  no  more.  But  when  she 
thought  it  was  being  done  in  love  by  those  who 
found  it  so  hard,  she  felt  it  was  worth  all  the 
weariness  it  cost  and  much  more. 

In  one  of  the  little  villages  which  they  visited 
there  were  only  two  Christians,  a man  and  his 
wife.  As  they  were  nearing  the  place,  the  leader, 
who  knew  all  the  Christians  in  that  district  well, 
told  the  missionary  that  this  was  a very  devoted 
couple  who  walked  ten  miles  to  church  and  back 
every  Sunday.  They  had  both  been  turned  out 
of  their  father’s  house  and  cast  off  by  all  their 
friends,  and  the  man  had  been  dragged  by  the 
top-knot  all  through  the  town  by  his  infuriated 
neighbours  and  cruelly  beaten.  When  they  ar- 
rived they  found  a couple  of  young  country 
peasants,  both  looking  wholesome,  honest  and 
intelligent.  The  man  was  an  especially  fine 
looking  young  fellow. 

The  usual  questions  were  answered  in  a re- 
markably straightforward  and  satisfactory  way, 
both  showing  evidence  of  deep  spiritual  experi- 


290  Housekeeping 

ence.  At  length  the  man  was  asked  if  he  had 
endured  hardships  or  difficulties  for  Christ’s 
sake.  “No,”  was  the  reply.  “What,”  said  the 
surprised  questioner,  “ have  you  not  been  a suf- 
ferer for  Christ?”  “No,”  was  still  the  answer. 
“ But  we  have  heard  that  you  were  cast  off  and 
beaten  and  reviled.”  “ How  can  I call  that  hard- 
ship or  trial  after  what  my  Lord  has  borne  for 
me,”  was  the  low  reply.  The  missionaries  looked 
on  that  lowly  peasant  with  reverence,  and  felt 
like  taking  off  their  shoes,  for  it  seemed  there 
was  a Holy  Presence  there.  Here  was  a man 
whose  face  was  shining  with  inward  peace,  and 
the  continued  presence  of  Jesus  though  all  his 
little  world  had  cast  him  off,  was  dwelling  under 
the  shadow  of  the  Almighty  in  the  secret  place  of 
the  Most  High.  His  wife,  a stout,  plain  country 
body,  said  she  wouldn’t  mind  the  rest  if  only 
their  parents  would  not  disown  them,  but  neither 
of  them  seemed  to  have  the  least  idea  they  were 
in  any  way  extraordinary.  How  surprised  they 
will  be  when  they  reach  the  golden  city  and  find 
they  are  given  one  of  the  highest  seats,  and  are 
crowned  with  the  martyr’s  crown ! 

Heaven  has  already  begun  for  them  right  in 
the  midst  of  persecution  too,  for  Jesus  is  heaven, 
and  Jesus’  presence  is  with  them.  He  comes  in 
and  sups  with  them,  and  they  with  Him. 

On  the  way  back,  one  freezing  cold  day  in 
November,  the  Wons  had  one  of  those  little  ex- 


Out  of  a Pit 


291 

periences  which  lend  spice,  zest  and  variety  to 
a country  trip. 

After  travelling  all  the  morning,  they  found 
that  the  village  for  which  they  were  destined  lay 
on  the  other  side  of  a ditch  of  slippery  wet  clay, 
which  was  at  least  fifteen  feet  deep,  nearly  per- 
pendicular, and  about  thirty  feet  across.  The 
very  high  tides  came  a long  distance  inland,  and 
twice  a day  this  was  full  of  water,  and  one  could 
ferry  across,  but  now  without  waiting  hours  in 
the  biting  wind,  with  no  shelter,  dinnerless  too, 
one  must  manage  some  other  way  to  cross. 

Without  bare  feet  and  legs  it  was  impossible 
for  any  of  the  men  to  think  of  crossing.  It  was 
at  last  planned  that  with  her  husband’s  help  she 
should  climb  part  way  down  the  bank,  seat  her- 
self in  the  chair,  which  the  coolies  held  high 
above  the  ooze  in  the  bed,  and  be  lifted  across 
by  the  men,  slipping  in  the  slime  at  every  step, 
and  at  the  steepest  part,  climb  up  with  her  hus- 
band’s help  to  the  other  side.  This  program  was 
carried  out  only  in  part,  for  the  coolies,  with  a 
sudden  spring,  supported  and  pushed  by  several 
men  at  the  back,  in  some  miraculous  way,  clam- 
bered up  the  steep  slimy  bank  with  the  chair  on 
their  shoulders,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  spilling 
the  vainly  protesting  Mrs.  Won  back  into  the 
wet  clay  and  filth.  When  she  looked  back  and 
saw  the  pit  whence  she  had  escaped,  she  remem- 
bered the  psalmist  and  felt  she  could  now  realize 


292  Housekeeping 

the  force  of  his  words  of  devout  thanks.  She, 
too,  had  been  brought  up  out  of  a horrible  pit 
and  the  miry  clay,  her  feet  set  on  a rock  and  her 
goings  established  with  a new  song  in  her  mouth. 
It  was  a matter  of  very  solemn  and  heart-felt  re- 
joicing to  her,  though  the  tiresome  Captain  would 
persist  in  laughing. 

At  Song  Do,  the  Wons  were  entertained  at  the 
house  of  a high  Korean  gentleman,  who  was  a 
great  friend  of  Pastor  Won. 

They  were  shown  into  a room  where  the  floor 
was  covered  with  the  finest  and  heaviest  oiled 
paper  which  shone  like  polished  marble.  Two 
embroidered  mattresses  to  sit  or  lie  upon  were 
on  the  floor,  brightly  polished  brass  candlesticks 
and  other  brass  articles  were  on  a little  table 
about  ten  inches  high.  There  were  sliding  paper 
windows  opening  into  a little  passageway  lead- 
ing to  other  apartments.  A clock  on  the  wall, 
and  a couple  of  very  heavy  Chinese  chairs,  com- 
pleted the  furniture. 

Mrs.  Won  was  invited  to  go  to  the  women’s 
apartments  to  see  the  ladies  of  the  house,  as  it 
was  contrary  to  their  custom  to  leave  those 
rooms. 

In  the  large  anpang,  to  which  she  was  led  by 
the  host  himself,  she  found  waiting  her  a tall, 
handsome  and  graceful  Korean  woman,  dressed 
in  white  Chinese  silk  with  no  ornaments.  She 
was  extremely  self-possessed,  cordial  and  talka- 


A KOREAN  LADY  IN  FULL  COSTUME 


Korean  Gentlefolks 


293 


tive,  and  soon  introduced  her  group  of  pretty 
children,  a girl  of  eighteen  or  nineteen  who  had 
been  married  a year  or  so,  a couple  of  boys,  re- 
spectively twelve  and  eight,  and  a little  orphaned 
niece  of  her  husband’s  of  about  fourteen  years. 
They  were  all  except  the  orphan  who  was  in 
white,  in  bright  coloured  silks.  There  were  rugs, 
lamps,  hand-basins  and  braziers,  all  of  brass  pol- 
ished and  shining  gorgeously. 

After  ceremonious  greetings  on  both  sides  had 
been  finished,  a plain,  meek,  sad  looking  elderly 
woman  of  near  sixty  came  in,  and  after  some 
time  Mrs.  Won  was  amazed  to  find  that  she  was 

Mr.  ’s  first  and  rightful  wife.  Childless, 

and  therefore  a mere  pensioner  on  the  bounty  of 
his  concubine,  who  was  really  queen  of  the 
establishment.  It  was  she  who  gave  the  orders, 
dispensed  the  hospitality,  and  ruled  every- 
thing. 

The  older  woman  seemed  to  recognize  this  as 
the  natural  and  proper  condition,  looked  no  dis- 
content, certainly  there  seemed  to  be  perfect 
friendliness  between  the  two,  the  concubine  treat- 
ing the  other  with  a sort  of  contemptuous  patron- 
age and  good  humour  of  the  happy  and  victori- 
ous. 

And  yet  I should  not  have  said  that  even  she 
was  happy,  for  she  did  not  hesitate  to  tell  Mrs. 
Won,  stranger  though  she  was,  the  Korean  cus- 
toms were  bad,  women  could  only  do  as  their 


294  Housekeeping 

husbands  allowed,  and  never  could  control  their 
own  actions  or  go  and  come  as  they  liked. 

Mrs.  Won  knew,  too,  that  this  woman  could 
not  meet  ladies,  first  wives  of  high  men  on  a 
footing  of  equality,  that  her  children  were  not 
fully  legitimate,  and  their  inheritance  of  their 
father’s  property  might  be  questioned?  Mrs. 
Won  had  noticed  in  the  woman  at  the  very  first 
a lack  of  that  stately  reserve  and  quiet  dignity 
which  the  real  Korean  lady  always  shows,  and 
that  atmosphere  of  rank  and  refinement,  but 
supposed  that  it  was  perhaps  the  difference  be- 
tween the  provincial  and  the  women  of  the 
capital.  But  when  the  subdued  and  sad  old 
woman  was  made  known,  she  at  once  understood 
the  reason.  The  concubines  do  not  come  from 
the  same  rank  as  the  first  wives,  and  can  almost 
invariably  be  detected  by  the  lack  of  that  inex- 
pressible polish  which  the  real  Korean  lady 
nearly  always  possesses. 

Mr. possessed  a very  large  establish- 

ment, and  had  a great  many  hangers-on,  hench- 
men and  servants.  He  held  a very  lucrative 
and  extremely  responsible  position,  as  the  super- 
intendent of  the  imperial  ginseng  factory,  the 
only  one  in  the  country. 

This  root  which  is  looked  upon  with  almost 
reverential  awe  and  superstition  as  a specific  for  al- 
most all  human  aliments  by  the  Chinese,  Japanese 
and  Koreans,  is  sold  by  the  farmers  in  the  raw  state 


Making  Ginseng  295 

for  about  eight  dollars  a pound.  Nearly  if  not 
all  of  the  ginseng  raised  in  the  country  is  raised 
on  farms  in  the  vicinity  of  Song  Do.  Each  one 
is  registered,  and  the  number  of  plants  known, 
and  all  must  be  sold  to  the  government.  The 
young  plants  are  of  little  value,  only  that  of  five 
and  six  years’  growth  is  brought  to  the  govern- 
ment officials. 

It  is  weighed  as  soon  as  received,  and  the 
farmers  paid  a fair  price.  Each  farmer  is  re- 
sponsible for  a certain  number  of  pounds.  The 
roots  are  at  once  washed,  all  out  of  doors,  through 
the  whole  process  in  fact,  and  packed  tightly  in 
flat  wicker  baskets  holding  each  thirty  pounds. 
These  baskets  are  set  in  a cauldron  full  of  boil- 
ing water,  over  a furnace,  and  kept  at  the  most 
furious  heat,  by  attendants  who  watch  them  con- 
stantly. There  are  twelve  of  these  furnaces  kept 
continually  going  day  and  night.  The  ginseng 
is  allowed  to  boil  for  two  hours,  when  it  is  removed 
and  another  basketful  immediately  takes  its  place. 
Eiach  basket  after  boiling  yields  about  ten  pounds. 
It  is  then  spread  out  to  dry  in  the  sun  in  flat 
baskets,  or  rough  tables,  and  locked  up  in  a 
strong  room  at  night. 

About  thirty  thousand  pounds  are  prepared 
each  year.  There  are  two  kinds  of  which  that 
called  the  red  ginseng  is  the  most  highly  prized. 
Korean  ginseng  brings  a very  high  price  in 
both  China  and  Japan.  Forty  dollars  gold  is 


296  Housekeeping 

not  an  unusual  sum  to  be  paid  per  pound  for  the 
best. 

Great  care  is  taken  to  prevent  theft,  and  some 
Japanese  who  were  attempting  to  poach  from  one 
of  the  farms  were  caught  by  Korean  officers,  and 
in  the  fight  which  ensued  one  of  the  Japanese 
was  killed,  for  which  the  government  was  then 
claiming  indemnity  and  the  punishment  of  the 
Koreans. 

The  plant  is  apparently  very  tender  and  needs 
great  care.  The  beds  are  shielded  by  wicker 
covers,  which  are  raised  at  the  proper  time  to 
allow  enough  sunlight,  and  lowered  to  prevent 
too  great  heat.  The  farming  of  this  is  very 
lucrative,  and  the  people  of  Song  Do  are  among 
the  most  prosperous  in  the  country.  The  women, 
even  to  the  middle  classes,  wear  silks  and  furs, 
and  one  sees  more  of  all  the  evidences  of  pros- 
perity of  all  kinds  than  in  other  cities  and 
towns. 

The  Southern  Methodist  mission  have  a station 
there,  and  the  Presbyterians  have  a small  church 
or  two,  and  work  in  the  villages  throughout  the 
district  and  province. 

Nothing  more  worth  relating  occurred  on  this 
trip.  Pastor  Won  held  a class  in  one  of  the 
towns  where  he  taught  five  hours  a day,  held 
street  services  for  at  least  an  hour,  and  every 
night  gathered  all  the  Christians,  men  and  women, 
for  an  hour’s  Bible  study  and  prayer.  Harry  got 


Home  to  Seoul  297 

some  tracts  and  distributed  them  to  the  eager 
boys  and  men  who  followed  him,  and  they  all 
helped  in  the  street  service  with  the  singing, 
while  the  ladies  patiently  submitted  to  daily  in- 
spection by  the  sightseers  to  whom  they  were  a 
sort  of  a dime  museum.  It  was  worth  while  in 
hope  of  some  seed  taking  root,  and  besides  there 
was  the  teaching  of  the  Christian  women. 

At  last  they  started  on  their  homeward  road. 
Two  nights  before  entering  Seoul,  Mrs.  Won, 
who  was  walking  with  her  husband,  beheld,  al- 
most at  her  feet,  by  the  roadside,  a dead  hand 
stretched  out  from  beneath  the  sod,  as  though  in 
supplication.  The  poor  body  had  been  hastily 
and  only  partly  covered  with  earth,  and  the  hand, 
she  couldn’t  help  but  think,  seemed  to  be  plead- 
ing in  a pathetic  way  to  the  strong,  the  happy, 
the  enlightened  and  the  free,  for  happiness,  light 
and  freedom.  A forlorn  brother  had  mayhap 
fallen  along  a Jericho  road,  dumbly  appealing 
to  those  who  might  but  will  not  help  the  help- 
less and  unhappy,  the  darkened  and  hopeless 
nations. 


XIII 


THE  BOY’S  CHRISTIAN  ENDEAVOUR  SOCIETY 

And  now  a time  had  come  when  the  Wons’ 
dear  old  home  had  to  be  sold,  and  they  were 
forced  to  find  another  house.  Everybody  knows 
it  takes  other  factors  than  brick  and  mortar, 
wood  and  stone  to  make  a home.  Of  course 
“ had  to,”  and  “ forced,”  being  interpreted  mean, 
that  as  a high  price  was  offered  to  the  mission 
for  it,  and  as  for  various  reasons  a removal 
seemed  to  promise  better  for  the  work,  the  Wons 
consented,  nobody  forcing  them  against  their 
will.  The  native  officials  could  not  at  all  under- 
stand this  matter  of  the  sale  of  American  prop- 
erty. Years  before,  when  a piece  of  ground  was 
desired,  word  was  sent  to  the  American  minister 

to  order  Mr. to  sell  that  land.  Great  was 

the  native  astonishment  when  the  reply  came 
that  the  all-powerful  minister  had  no  power  to 
give  such  an  order ; but  it  was  nothing  to  the 
shock  they  experienced  when  having  asked  him 
to  cable  to  the  President  to  order  the  sale,  they 
were  told  that  even  the  President  himself  could 
not  compel  an  American  to  sell  his  property. 

But  though  no  minister,  emperor  or  president, 
or  even  the  mission  that  owned  the  land  com- 

298 


Selling  the  Home  299 

pelled  Pastor  Won,  “ the  King’s  business  ” did, 
and  they  must  all  flit.  The  dear  old  homely 
place  had  grown  round  them,  and  in  some  way, 
mysterious  and  unexplainable,  but  certain,  the 
walls,  the  rafters,  the  floors,  seemed  almost  as 
much  a part  of  them  as  fingers  and  toes,  just  the 
hard  outer  shell,  of  that,  of  which  the  body  was 
the  inner. 

The  trees,  flowers  and  vines  that  had  been 
planted  one  by  one,  each  with  a history,  each  a 
souvenir,  of  some  dear  old  friend,  some  well 
loved  scene,  some  happy  time,  each  loved  almost 
like  a child,  must  all  be  uprooted  and  struggle 
for  life  in  some  other  soil. 

Before  the  Wons  left  the  new  owners  tore 
down  the  charming  old  ivy  covered  gate  and 
wall  at  the  back  and  ruthlessly  cut  down  the 
reverend  crooked  old  pine,  over  which  the 
wisteria  climbed.  Mrs.  Won  chancing  to  pass 
the  window  at  the  moment  saw  and  heard  the 
blow,  which  seemed  to  cleave  her  own  heart.  It 
appeared  to  her  an  act  of  vandalism,  but  perhaps 
she  had  unconsciously  begun  to  lapse  into 
heathenism,  and  was  making  idols  and  fetishes 
of  some  of  these  things  and  needed  to  be 
aroused. 

As  for  the  house  itself  there  was  much  that 
endeared  it  to  the  family.  Thither  the  pastor 
had  taken  his  wife  after  their  wedding,  where  as 
they  stepped  over  the  threshold  together,  and 


300  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

realized  that  God  had  made  them  a family  and 
given  them  a home,  it  began  to  be  sacred. 

In  yonder  chamber  Harry  had  been  born — 
there  through  long  sickness,  loved  ones  had 
nursed,  watched  and  prayed.  Round  the  fire  in 
the  parlour  they  sat  reading  and  chatting  to- 
gether Sunday  afternoons  when  service  was 
done.  In  the  dining-room  many  a friend  native 
and  foreign  had  sat  at  their  board,  in  the  sitting- 
room  the  native  women’s  Bible  classes  had  met 
all  those  years,  and  the  little  commonplaces  of  the 
household  life  had  gone  on.  Here  in  the  study 
the  Christmas  tree  always  stood  while  the  merry 
children  circled  round  with  expectant  eyes,  and 
near  by  at  the  wide  chimney  the  stockings  were 
hung.  Here  the  K’s  wedding  took  place,  and 
from  hence  was  the  beloved  dead  carried  to  her 
rest.  Many  a children’s  party  had  made  the 
rafters  ring,  and  they  had  heard  the  psalms  of  the 
watch  night  service  once  every  alternate  year  for 
nineteen  years. 

What  blessed  meetings  of  prayer  past  count- 
ing had  been  held  there,  what  long  conferences 
in  planning  for  the  growth  and  advance  of  the 
work,  as  one  and  another  new  branch  of  labour, 
new  form  of  attack  on  the  strongholds  of  evil 
were  undertaken.  The  Bible  Committee,  the 
Tract  Society,  the  Christian  Endeavour,  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.,  the  Home  for  Destitute  Children,  the 
Young  Men’s  Missionary  Association,  etc.  In 


The  New  House 


301 


that  study  the  New  Testament  had  been  trans- 
lated, and  what  not  else  of  hymns,  tracts  and 
religious  helps.  In  yonder  guest  room  the 
Korean  refugees  had  found  shelter,  and  many 
dear  ones  to  be  seen  on  earth  no  more. 

Love,  joy,  pain  and  sorrow,  with  one  Holy 
Presence,  had  hallowed  the  place  and  trans- 
muted even  the  most  common  and  sordid  parts 
of  it  into  something  more  precious  than  gold  in 
the  opinions  of  the  Wons.  Harry  had  never 
known  any  other  home,  and  boy  though  he  was, 
ashamed  of  tears,  on  the  unhappy  day  when  they 
left,  his  mother  discovered  him  hidden  away  in 
the  dark,  sobbing  passionately. 

A fine  new  healthy,  breezy  site  had  been  found. 
A new,  better  “ much  better  house  ” was  build- 
ing, and  they  were  to  go  forth  to  become 
aquainted  with  it,  and  to  try  to  fit  their  angles 
into  its  corners,  their  curves  into  its  concavities. 
It  had  to  be  furnished,  too,  I don’t  mean  with 
tables,  chairs,  pictures,  etc.,  which  is  a compara- 
tively easy  matter  (for  old  ones  can  be  moved 
though  they  like  it  little,  and  look  all  wrong  in  a 
new  house),  or  new  ones  can  be  bought  with 
ordinary  money,  but  the  real  furniture  which 
makes  a richly  furnished  home  and  habitation 
for  people  with  souls,  is  not  so  easy  to  obtain. 
Millions  will  not  buy  these  things.  Tender 
memories,  precious  associations,  love,  hope, 
blessed  sorrow,  sacrifice,  service,  victories  over 


302  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

self,  sin  forgiven,  all  have  their  place  in  making 
the  home  beautiful,  comfortable,  livable;  they 
come  very  slowly  and  are  bought  only  with  the 
costliest  currency,  of  heart-beats  and  years.  It 
would  be  a long  time,  if  ever,  before  the  Wons’ 
new  house  would  be  as  well  furnished  as  the 
old. 

It,  the  new  one,  was  not  ready  yet,  but  was  full 
of  clamour,  dust,  shavings,  blue-coated,  pig-tailed 
Chinamen,  white-coated,  top-knotted  Koreans 
and  spry  little  Japanese.  The  cold  wind  whistled 
through  unfinished  windows  and  doors,  there 
was  a combined  sawing,  pounding,  cutting, 
squeaking  and  groaning,  the  birth  throes  of  a 
house  making  loud  complaint. 

Harry  could  by  no  stretch  of  imagination  see 
how  it  could  ever  come  to  be  a quiet,  peaceful 
home.  It  was  very  slow  work,  every  bit  of 
moulding,  nay  every  board  cut  from  the  log, 
was  painfully  sawed,  cut  and  grooved  by  hand 
with  clumsy  native  tools,  and  every  two  hours 
the  Chinamen  all  stopped  for  a twenty  minutes’ 
smoke.  While  the  Captain  was  still  doing  his 
best  to  hurry  it  on  and  “ hustle  the  East,”  some- 
thing happened.  A peep  at  Mrs.  Won’s  diary 
will  explain. 

April  15th,  19 — . A sentinel  paces  before  our 
gate,  a guard  are  lodged  in  our  sarang ' and  we 
are  of  the  unenviable  few,  who  as  princes  or 

■ Korean  guest  house. 


The  King  Approaches  303 

prisoners — much  the  same  thing — are  kept  by 
armed  men,  for  royalty  sleeps  hard  by  ! 

Last  night  the  palace  burned  down,  and  the 
Emperor,  not  desiring  to  occupy  either  of  the 
other  palaces  so  full  of  mournful  and  terrible  as- 
sociations, took  refuge  with  his  family  and  suite 
in  the  Imperial  building  which  was  erected  a 
few  years  before  next  door  to  our  house. 

Sentinels  were  posted  all  around  us,  and  what 
a rushing  thither  of  high  officials  in  chairs,  what 
a gathering  of  retainers,  what  a hurrying  to  and 
fro  of  all  sorts  of  menials,  soldiers,  police  and 
who  not.  What  a change  in  our  quiet  neigh- 
bourhood ! 

The  flames  leaped  high  in  their  beautiful  de- 
structive play  for  hours,  but  everything  was  quiet 
and  orderly  ; no  crowds  gathered,  a number  of 
Japanese  troops  were  on  hand  to  assist  in  any 
way  desired,  but  the  headway  gained  was  so 
great  that  little  could  be  done. 

At  about  2 A.  M.  when  H went  out  for 

the  last  time  to  make  sure  there  was  no  danger 
of  the  further  advance  of  the  fire,  he  was  met  by 
an  officer  bearing  a note  with  the  rather  start- 
ling news  that  we  and  all  the  missionaries  on 
this  compound  must  move  that  very  day,  the 
date  for  handing  over  the  property  being  over- 
due, and  the  Emperor  and  his  officials  being  in 
great  need  of  all  our  dwellings  and  more.  The 
Captain  at  once  hurried  to  our  legation,  and 


304  Ihe  j5oy  s Christian  endeavour  bociety 

respectfully  but  firmly  stated  the  impossibility  of 
getting  out  on  such  short  notice,  but  promised 
to  give  up  the  house  at  the  earliest  possible  mo- 
ment. The  accumulations  of  twenty  years  are 
not  so  easily  disposed  of,  and  I’m  afraid  we 
have  more  things  than  are  good  for  us.  We 
had  no  doubt,  whatever,  about  it  when  we  be- 
gan to  move.  And  where,  pray,  were  we  to  go  ? 
No  lofts  to  be  rented  in  which  furniture  could  be 
stored,  no  houses  to  be  rented  for  ourselves.  At 
early  dawn  we  and  things  began  to  jump.  We 
would  live  camping  fashion  in  a Korean  house 
for  awhile,  and  pack  the  belongings  somewhere, 
somehow  in  the  new  house.  In  an  amazing 
short  time,  curtains  and  pictures  were  down, 
carpets  up,  great  packing  cases  adorned  the 
rooms,  piles  of  articles  to  be  stored  away  lay  on 
chairs  and  tables,  and  bustle  and  hurry  were  the 
order  of  the  day.  We  stopped  a little  for  break- 
fast and  prayers,  and  the  fatter  were  perhaps 
more  fervent  than  usual  and  the  former  much 
lighter.  It  seemed  a long  delay  when  there  was 
such  a hurry,  but  we  soon  learned  our  mistake, 
for  at  9 A.  M.  a high  official  came  to  beg  us,  at 
the  Emperor’s  urgent  request,  not  to  move  until 
our  own  dwellings  were  ready.  We  were  told 
that  the  presence  of  Americans  was  considered  a 
protection,  and  the  ruler  of  Korea  was  glad  to 
have  the  American  flag  (God  bless  her)  and 
American  people  at  his  door.  So  there  we 


Visited  by  the  Prince  305 

were  to  stay  as  long  as  we  liked,  but  such  a 
mess ! 

Nevertheless,  thankful  indeed  we  were  not  to 
be  turned  into  the  streets  till  our  new  house  was 
ready,  so  with  smiles  and  hearts  at  rest  we  pro- 
ceeded to  straighten  our  poor  upset  dwelling. 

Long  before  the  Wons  were  able  to  get  their 
boxes  out  of  sight  or  the  rugs  and  curtains  re- 
placed, who  should  come  paying  a neighbourly 
visit  but  the  little  Prince,  the  Emperor’s  youngest 
and  much  petted  child.  He  was  only  seven  and 
looked  less,  but  he  strode  in  with  great  dignity 
— though  he  arrived  on  a man’s  back — and  in- 
sisted on  shaking  hands  all  round,  and  in  fol- 
lowing polite  foreign  custom  so  far  as  he  was  in- 
formed. , 

He  was,  of  course,  surrounded  by  a crowd  of 
eunuchs,  officials  and  palace  women  whom  he 
ordered  about  in  a lordly  way.  Some  of  them 
presumed  on  his  presence,  to  intrude  into  the  bed- 
rooms, kitchen,  etc.,  for  a kugung, ' but  were 
sharply  recalled  and  sternly  reprimanded  by  the 
little  prince  for  such  unseemly  behaviour  in  the 
house  of  a friend. 

He  was  a sweet-faced  little  fellow,  looking 
much  like  his  royal  papa,  and  was  really  a very 
bright  boy,  with  a gentle,  sympathetic  and 
generous  nature. 

He  delighted  in  buying  cakes  and  goodies 

' A sightseeing. 


306  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

from  the  vendors,  and  having  them  distributed 
to  all  the  workmen  and  coolies,  and  there  were 
many  whom  the  Emperor  had  already  at  work 
on  the  place.  And  when  the  gateman’s  little 
child  fell  in  her  play  he  sent  an  official  running 
in  hot  haste  to  inquire  if  she  was  hurt.  Mrs. 
Won  managed  to  sprain  her  ankle  one  day,  and 
when  he  heard  she  was  suffering,  and  that  the 
presence  of  his  retainers  at  such  a time  might 
disturb  her  rest,  he  allowed  no  one  to  enter,  but 
came  several  times  each  day  to  enquire,  and  sent 
fruit  and  such  dainties  as  his  kind  little  heart 
suggested  might  be  appreciated. 

On  the  first  day,  his  first  visit  was  a short  one, 
but  in  fifteen  minutes  there  they  were  all  back 
again,  and  dinner  had  to  be  left  chilling  to  enter- 
tain them.  However,  this  royal  call  also  was 
brief,  but  it  was  evident  the  duties  of  his  attend- 
ants were  no  sinecure,  for  he  proved  a very  lively 
young  person  indeed,  and  was  in  and  out  of  the 
house  every  half  hour  always  with  the  same 
formalities  to  be  laboured  through,  always  the 
same  crowd  of  followers  as  before. 

The  first  day  Harry  was  away,  and  Harry  of 
course  was  the  person  he  most  wished  to  inter- 
view, not  having  any  foreign  playmates,  and 
being  consumed  with  curiosity  as  to  his  manners 
and  customs,  dress,  looks,  etc.  Early  next  morn- 
ing, therefore,  before  the  young  American  was 
awake,  word  came  that  the  little  Prince  was  wait- 


A Royal  Playfellow  307 

ing  at  the  door  to  see  him,  and  the  last  thing  at 
night  came  a message  from  his  Highness  wish- 
ing him  good-night. 

This  was  all  extremely  kind  and  flattering,  but 
things  began  to  have  a sameness  to  Master  Harry 
after  a few  days,  and  to  be  called  from  work  or 
play  every  few  minutes  at  the  beck  of  a small 
boy,  with  whom  he  had  not  a great  deal  in  com- 
mon, began  to  pall,  somewhat.  In  a word  he 
began  to  find  it  a little  wearisome,  but  he  was 
nevertheless  good-natured  and  affable,  and  as 
nearly  respectful  as  was  possible,  but  when  the 
little  royalty  ordered  him,  Harry,  an  American, 
to  run  up  and  down  simply  to  amuse  him,  as  he 
would  wind  a mechanical  toy  forsooth  and  set  it 
going  to  see  how  it  would  w'ork,  Harry  drew  the 
line,  and  simply  but  politely  refused.  “What,” 
said  the  Prince,  who  at  first  could  not  believe  his 
ears,  “what,  will  he  not  do  it?”  Then  burst 
forth  a peal  of  uncontrollable  delighted  laughter. 
It  was  so  inexpressibly  funny  to  think  that  there 
really  existed  a being,  and  that  a mere  child  who 
could  dare  calmly  and  coolly  to  refuse  to  do  his 
bidding ! He  was  quite  charmed  with  Harry  ; he 
was  a great  curiosity,  and  loved  him  more  de- 
votedly than  ever,  though  he  issued  no  more  com- 
mands to  that  young  person.  But  though  Harry 
was  not  ordered  about,  everybody  else  was.  One 
of  the  officials  near  his  small  Highness,  a man  of 
thirty  or  forty  who,  like  all  his  attendants,  was 


308  The  Boy's  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

robed  in  immaculate  white  silk  garments  of  very 
delicate  texture,  was  imperiously  ordered  to  climb 
a tall  persimmon-tree  where  Harry  had  seated 
himself  among  the  higher  branches,  and  so  thither 
the  unfortunate  man  was  obliged  to  go,  it  need 
scarcely  be  said  to  the  great  demoralization  of 
his  flimsy  and  spotless  robes.  Another  was  or- 
dered to  scale  a mud  wall  with  results  pitiable  to 
behold,  but  evidently  causing  not  the  least  con- 
cern to  the  little  despot. 

As  I have  said  he  was  a bright  little  fellow,  and 
had  made  good  progress  already  in  his  Chinese 
studies,  and  withal  seemed  in  every  way  such  a 
dear  and  promising  little  boy  that  Mrs.  Won’s 
heart  yearned  over  him,  and  she  longed  to  snatch 
him  from  the  crowd  of  sycophants  and  flatterers 
who  constantly  cajoled  and  deceived  him  and 
whose  fawning  service  choked  his  manliness, 
energy  and  independence,  fostered  pride,  in- 
dolence, selfishness,  distrust  and  a host  of  faults 
soon  to  become  vices.  To  see  him  trained  firmly 
and  lovingly,  and  taught  what  any  common 
American  boy  may  know,  Mrs.  Won  longed  in- 
expressibly, but  could  only  pray  it  might  be 
brought  about,  how  she  could  not  see. 

The  war,  the  terrible  war  that  had  been  gath- 
ering its  clouds  so  long,  had  broken  over  the 
devoted  little  country  some  time  before,  but  so 
far  as  the  Americans  in  the  capital  were  con- 
cerned, it  brought  no  trouble,  scarce  a ripple 


War  Days 


309 

even  of  anxiety  for  themselves,  thou-gh  it  cost 
them  many  a pang  for  the  country  they  loved 
next  their  own,  and  sometimes  they  almost  feared 
the  end  of  their  work  had  begun. 

To  the  boys  I am  afraid  the  war  was  almost 
welcome.  Soldiers  arrived  in  goodly  numbers 
at  the  Russian,  Japanese,  French,  Italian,  Ger- 
man, English  and  American  legations.  Arms 
bristled  everywhere,  uniforms  of  many  nations 
varied  the  almost  universal  white  of  the  Korean 
people  ; there  was  marching  and  countermarch- 
ing, sentinels  as  thick  as  flies,  roll  calls  on  all 
sides,  for  the  Wons  had  the  Russian  legation  on 
one  hand,  the  American  on  the  other  and  the 
French  across  the  street,  and  when  the  King 
came  so  near,  Korean  soldiers  and  officers 
swarmed  all  around  them.  There  were  many 
long  rows  of  barracks  all  over  the  city,  for  the 
Emperor  had  nearly  ten  thousand  troops,  and 
when  the  Japanese  army  of  thousands  of  sturdy, 
grim,  determined  little  men  came  pouring  into 
Seoul,  bless  you,  you  couldn’t  turn  around  with- 
out running  into  a regiment.  Nevertheless  it  was 
all  remarkably  orderly  and  quiet  for  a large  city 
full  of  the  troops  of  many  nations.  Nobody  had 
any  complaints  to  make  of  the  Japanese  soldiers, 
and  seldom  were  any  of  them  seen  drunk.  It  is 
a pity  as  much  could  not  be  said  of  the  Russians 
who  drank  far  too  much  of  their  terrible  vodke 
and  other  poisonous  stuff,  and  ill-treated  helpless. 


310  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

unoffending  natives  in  such  shocking  ways  that 
every  woman  in  the  country  wished  success  to 
the  Japanese  if  for  nothing  but  to  be  rid  of  the 
Russians. 

“ Mamma,”  said  a six  year  old  American  friend 
of  Harry’s,  “ mamma,  why  do  you  think  God 
made  Russians  ? ” And  a few  minutes  later,  very 
earnestly,  ” Do  you  think  you  would  like  to  sit 
next  a Russian  angel  in  heaven,  mamma?” 

But  the  Russians  all  left  Seoul  very  soon,  for 
there  was  a great  battle  in  Chemulpo,  and  every- 
body knows  how  it  ended.  It  was  a thrilling 
and  terrible  thing  as  Harry  and  all  the  rest  of 
them  thought,  to  hear  the  solemn,  awful  booming 
of  those  guns  like  the  tolling  of  a funeral  knell, 
thirty  miles  away,  and  know  they  told  of  men 
agonizing  and  dying,  of  great  ships  being  torn 
and  sunk,  and  that  the  fate  of  nations,  countless 
millions  perhaps  was  hanging  in  the  balance 
and  that  God  was  working  out  His  great  plans 
for  the  kingdom  that  is  to  come.  They  seemed 
to  hear  in  those  awful  thunderings  the  echo  of 
the  lofty  words  of  the  Battle  Hymn 


“ Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord, 

He  is  trampling  out  the  vintage  where  the  grapes  of  wrath  are 
stored, 

He  hath  loosed  the  fateful  lightening  of  His  terrible  swift  sword, 
His  truth  is  marching  on.” 


A few  days  after  the  battle,  Harry  and  Wilber 


Seeing  War  Sights  311 

went  down  to  the  port  and  saw  the  poor  battered 
wrecks  in  the  water,  and  thousands  of  Japanese 
soldiers  disembarking  from  the  transports  as  fast 
as  they  could  be  landed,  all  eager,  joyful,  proud, 
to  be  going  straight  to  long  hardship  ; hunger, 
cold,  weariness,  toil,  absence  from  the  adored 
home  land,  suffering,  probably  mutilation  and 
death,  all  for  Japan,  For  a better  country  and  a 
glorious  King  shall  Christians  not  gladly  endure 
hardship  as  good  soldiers  and  count  it  all  joy 
when  we  fall  into  divers  trials ! 

The  boys  thought  almost  as  much  of  their  visit 
to  the  American  warship  in  the  harbour,  and  all 
the  wonders  and  glories  thereof  which  they  were 
politely  shown  by  an  officer,  as  of  all  the  other 
sights  put  together,  and  they  were  not  a few. 
Such  a busy  scene ! Soldiers  everywhere  of 
course,  and  people  of  all  nationalities  in  their 
peculiar  dress,  jostling  each  other  on  the  crowded 
streets.  Coolies,  pack  ponies  and  hand  carts, 
loaded  and  overloaded  with  all  sorts  of  things 
armies  need,  hurrying  hither  and  yon.  Noise, 
bustle  and  confusion  everywhere,  reporters  and 
correspondents  of  the  great  journals  of  the  world, 
some  of  them  bearing  famous  names,  standing 
about  taking  mental  notes,  or  hurrying  along 
making  arrangements  for  going  forward  with 
the  army,  Russian  and  Japanese  army  and  navy 
officers  clanking  about  in  (to  the  boys)  fascinat- 
ing uniforms,  vendors  of  all  sorts  of  things, 


312  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

especially  photos  of  the  wrecks  in  the  harbour 
and  the  battle,  advertising  their  wares,  most  of 
them  lustily,  and  beggars  in  plenty  piteously  be- 
seeching you  to  “ give  them  life,”  which  being 
interpreted,  is  a small  fraction  of  a cent.  Alas, 
how  little  does  life  mean  to  more  than  these, 
whose  ideas  of  it  are  bounded  by  the  dimensions 
of  a piece  of  money.  How  many  have  yet  to 
learn  from  the  great  Teacher  that  a man’s  life 
consisteth  not  in  these. 

The  trains  which  run  between  Seoul  and 
Chemulpo  are  few  and  evil ; until  quite  lately  it 
took  something  over  two  hours  to  make  the 
twenty-seven  odd  miles,  and  the  best  time  made 
now  is,  I believe,  one  hour  and  forty-five  minutes, 
so  the  boys  had  to  start  back  all  too  soon.  They 
were  expected  home  by  half-past  six  or  at  the 
latest  at  eight,  but  alas  when  they  reached  the 
office,  they  found  that  the  time-tables  had  all 
been  upset  to  accommodate  the  army  being 
hurried  up  to  the  capital,  and  not  a train  would 
now  leave  till  half-past  eight  which  meant  not 
getting  home  till  eleven  or  after.  Harry  knew 
that  his  mother  for  one,  would  be  in  ‘‘a  state  of 
mind,”  so  they  went  to  the  telegraph  office  and 
thoughtfully  sent  a despatch,  which  would  have 
been  a comfort  had  it  arrived  before  the  boys,  but 
as  the  army  and  navy  happened  to  be  overwork- 
ing the  wires  like  everything  else  just  then,  no 
message  came  to  pass  for  hours.  The  little 


Japanese  Courtesy  313 

party  also  discovered  that  not  only  were  the 
hours  changed,  but  that  all  the  trains  going  to 
Seoul  were  reserved  for  Japanese  soldiers  and 
they  could  only  secure  tickets  at  all  through  the 
grace  of  a military  official  permit.  So  they  hied 
to  the  quarters  of  the  gentleman  who  superin- 
tended that  business,  and  were  asked  to  wait  a 
few  moments  as  he  was  in  his  bath.  In  a very 
few  moments  an  exceedingly  kind  and  polite  per- 
sonage appeared  smiling  and  perspiring  in  his 
kimono,  undoubtedly  just  emerged,  begging  they 
would  excuse  his  Japanese  dress,  and  with  great 
alacrity  and  good  nature  gave  them  the  needed 
pass  which  secured  to  them  a roomy  compart- 
ment quite  to  themselves,  in  a much  over- 
crowded train. 

Too  much  cannot  be  said  in  praise  of  the 
courtesy  and  kindness  of  Japanese  gentlemen, 
and  the  order  and  discipline  maintained  in  their 
army,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  much  to 
be  said  in  deprecation  of  the  rudeness  and  dan- 
gerous character  of  many  of  their  people  who 
seem  to  be  colonizing  Korea  by  thousands,  and 
who  abound  on  the  streets  of  the  capital. 

The  soldiers  piled  into  the  train  that  night, 
four  stout  little  men  each  in  a seat  intended  for 
two,  but  the  boys  made  the  trip  very  com- 
fortably, thanks  to  the  pass  that  the  kind  official 
had  given  them.  In  the  meanwhile  telegrams 
of  anxious  inquiry  had  been  speeding  from  Seoul 


314  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

to  Chemulpo  and  journeys  made  to  the  depot 
with  the  comforting  information  that  the  trains 
were  now  utterly  irregular,  were  sometimes  run 
on  a siding  to  remain  for  hours  or  all  night  even, 
to  accommodate  the  military  trains,  and  that 
they  could  scarcely  expect  the  boys  that  night. 
Mrs.  Won  thought  of  railroad  accidents  so  prob- 
able under  such  circumstances,  and  had  visions 
of  the  great  waves  in  the  treacherous  bay  that 
have  swallowed  little  boats  at  a gulp,  and  vowed 
she  could  never  sleep  till  her  boy  came  home,  and 
though  the  Captain  didn’t  say  much  he  was  not 
at  ease.  However,  a little  before  eleven  in 
walked  the  truants  quite  all  there. 

In  a day  or  so  there  was  a crowd  of  newspaper 
correspondents  at  the  hotel,  all  in  a hurry  to  be 
off  to  the  front,  getting  their  outfits,  interpreters, 
ponies,  guns,  and  round  them  at  a safe  and  re- 
spectable distance,  the  boys  circled  in  awed  and 
envious  admiration,  wishing,  with  all  their  foolish 
little  hearts,  that  they  could  go  to  the  war  and 
witness  all  the  exciting  events  that  would  soon 
take  place.  Mrs.  Won  never  could  understand 
why  boys  should  like  noise  and  a share  in  fierce 
and  cruel  deeds,  when  men  shoot  and  cut  each 
other  down.  However,  when  these  same  corre- 
spondents came  sorrowfully  back  a few  weeks 
later,  like  the  King  of  France  who  marched  up  a 
hill  and  them  marched  down  again,  or  Mary’s 
litde  lamb,  whom  the  teacher  turned  out  of 


American  Soldiers 


3‘5 


school,  the  boys  realized  that  even  a war  re- 
porter’s path  is  not  all  roses.  At  least  their  lan- 
guage did  not  indicate  that  they  thought  so. 
Here  we  must  leave  the  war  and  its  story  which, 
God  grant,  may  have  been  all  told  before  these 
lines  are  seen.  ’Tis  a terrible  and  bloody  tale, 
and  dark  look  the  prospects  of  this  poor  little 
kingdom  of  simply  kindly  folks,  which  now  lies 
at  the  mercy  of  the  Conqueror  to  be ! But  we  will 
trust  that  God  who  pities  and  avenges  the  weak 
in  His  own  way  and  time,  but  surely,  and  who 
counts  every  sparrow  that  falls,  has  not  forgotten 
it. 

American  guards  who  had  seen  service  in  the 
Philippines  came  to  the  American  legation  when 
the  war  broke  out,  of  course,  and  I am  sure  Harry 
and  the  other  American  boys  would  gladly  have 
lain  down  and  let  the  soldiers  walk  over  them. 
The  boys  hung  round  the  barracks,  acted  as  inter- 
preters and  ran  errands  for  their  heroes  and,  of 
course,  at  once  invited  them  all  to  church  and 
prayer-meeting,  an  invitation  which,  however 
courteously  received,  was  not.  I’m  afraid,  very 
generally  or  enthusiastically  responded  to. 

They  were  all  friends  of  Harry’s  and  Harry 
loved  them  all.  Some  of  them  had  to  be  asked 
to  tea,  of  course,  which  was  yet  keener  bliss  for  the 
ardent  little  American,  who  sat  close  beside  them, 
gazing  and  listening  as  though  they  were  demi- 
gods, while  they  told  stories  of  their  experiences 


316  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

in  the  Philippines  and  elsewhere.  So  the  sol- 
diers came  to  be  a large  item  in  Harry’s  life  and 
that  of  the  other  boys.  Soldier  slang,  soldier 
songs,  and  stories  began  to  come  to  Mrs.  Won’s 
ears  rather  frequently,  and  she  was  forced  to  utter 
a word  of  warning,  though  she  hated  to  cast  a 
mist  of  doubt  of  the  glory  of  his  idols.  “ They 
are  brave  fellows,  dear;  but  all  sorts  of  men  en- 
list ; we  saw  some  of  them  very  tipsy  more  than 
once,  men  who  like  to  stay  in  those  horrible  dirty 
saloons  do  not  use  the  best  talk,  and  are  not  com- 
panions for  children  ; you  must  choose  out  your 
companions  among  those  who  are  Christians.” 
But  though  the  intercourse  was  somewhat  re- 
stricted they  all  had  a strong  hold  on  his  affec- 
tions, and  he  always  had  an  excuse  ready  for  their 
faults,  to  most  of  which  he  was  indeed  quite  blind, 
and  ardent  praises  for  all  their  virtues. 

A much-prized  institution  of  the  foreign  chil- 
dren in  Seoul  was  the  Christian  Endeavor  Society, 
which  was  made  up  largely  of  boys  and  girls  who 
had  mostly  been  bom  in  Korea,  but  for  all  that 
were,  as  I’ve  hinted  before,  straight  enough 
Americans,  Canadians  or  English.  Nearly  all 
of  them  had  been  in  the  home  lands,  some  had 
been  all  round  the  world,  for  it  was  pretty  nearly 
the  same  thing  when  their  parents  took  their  fur- 
loughs whether  they  crossed  the  Pacific  and  North 
America,  or  went  round  through  the  Suez  Canal 
and  across  the  Atlantic,  so  they  had  seen  many 


Cosmopolitan  Children  3^7 

lands,  many  kinds  of  peoples  and  customs,  and 
been  in  all  sorts  of  queer  places.  Most  of  them 
talked  Korean  like  natives.  One  of  Harry’s 
friends  in  Cheefoo  talked  three  languages  fluently 
at  five,  for  his  parents  being  German,  his  nurse 
Chinese  and  his  playmates  English,  he  needed 
to  use  them  all.  As  for  Harry  he  had  seen  the 
beautiful  park,  the  cherry  blossoms.  Zoo,  and  the 
wonderful  tableau  flower  show  in  Tokyo,  the  parks 
and  gardens  in  Hongkong,  Singapore  and  Paris, 
the  beautiful  aquarium  in  Naples,  the  picture  gal- 
leries and  churches  in  Rome,  Florence  and  Venice, 
had  walked  through  the  ghostly  streets  of  Pompeii, 
sauntered  through  the  London  tower,  the  British 
Museum,  the  Zoo  and  Madam  Tussaud,  so  he  and 
the  others  too  had  had  more  than  a glimpse  at 
the  world’s  peep  show,  if  they  did  not  live  in  an 
out-of-the-way  corner,  nor  were  they  at  all  behind 
their  cousins  who  lived  in  America  in  the  educa- 
tion that  is  won  from  books ; still  their  parents 
felt  they  lacked,  and  feared  their  character  might 
suffer,  for  the  bracing  Christian  atmosphere  of  a 
large  American  community,  and  the  privileges 
of  the  warm  shelter  of  American  Church  life.  So 
a Christian  Endeavor  Society  was  suggested,  to 
give  the  children  training  in  Christian  work,  a 
sort  of  little  hot-bed  in  the  chilly  heathen  weather 
for  their  imported  plants.  Everybody  fell  in 
heartily  with  the  idea.  A young  missionary 
was  found  who  willingly  took  charge  of  the 


318  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

society,  and  the  boys  and  girls  joined  with  en- 
thusiasm, except  Forest,  who,  being  a nervous 
boy,  was  so  afraid  he  might  not  keep  the  pledge 
he  refused  to  sign  it.  Harold,  and  Mary  Moose 
were  obliged  to  print  their  names;  but  never 
mind,  it  was  quite  readable. 

The  young  members  contributed  very  gener- 
ously of  time,  strength  and  money. 

Laurence  w^as  the  oldest,  in  all  the  dignity  of 
sixteen,  then  Lera,  Myrtie,  Harry,  Helen,  Wilber, 
Douglas,  Fred,  John,  Bowling,  Foster,  Stella, 
Madeline,  Max,  Newlon,  Ruby,  Lisette,  Mary, 
Harold.  They  were  a pretty  busy  crowd  of  chil- 
dren. Before  Christmas  of  course  everybody 
was  making  presents  for  everybody  else,  as  well 
as  for  some  of  the  Koreans,  but  not  counting  that, 
they  all  or  nearly  all,  raised  vegetables,  fruits, 
flowers  or  chickens,  which  they  sold  to  each  oth- 
er’s fathers  and  mothers  or  their  own  ; the  girls 
knitted  and  sewed,  some  of  the  boys  and  girls, 
too,  chopped  wood  famously,  and  then  there 
were  errands  and  lessons,  but  nevertheless  their 
Christian  Endeavour  was  not  a bit  slighted.  The 
committee  for  visitation  of  the  sick  were  found 
with  flowers  and  rosy,  shining  faces  in  many 
sick  rooms,  and  proved  to  be  a very  good  medi- 
cine indeed. 

All  who  could  read  took  turns  in  leading  the 
meeting,  and  felt  the  dignity  and  responsibility 
involved. 


3^9 


Boy  Missionaries 

Harry,  Wilber  and  Douglas,  the  missionary 
committee,  to  which  John  was  afterwards  added, 
at  once  bought  tracts,  and  proceeded  to  dis- 
tribute them.  The  novelty  of  little  foreign  boys 
offering  them  on  the  street  aroused  curiosity, 
and  they  were  thronged  with  applicants.  Sol- 
diers in  the  barracks  let  down  baskets  from  their 
high  windows,  and  the  street  cars  considerately 
stopped,  till  they  could  board,  give  eager  pas- 
sengers one,  and  jump  off.  The  report  for  one 
month  which  was  not  one  of  the  best,  was  3,000 
tracts  distributed  by  this  committee.  In  this  work 
they  invited  native  boys  of  their  own  age  to  a 
little  Sunday-school  class,  which  Wilber  superin- 
tended, and  soon  quite  a number  of  little  fellows 
were  coming  every  Sunday.  Wilber  could  not 
read  the  native  characters  nor  could  any  of  the 
boys,  nor  were  they  enough  older  than  their 
pupils  to  undertake  much  instruction,  so  after 
singing  and  a little  quiet  talk,  they  were  taken 
into  the  regular  Sunday-school.  This  class  was 
usually  quite  full,  but  with  a somewhat  changing 
audience,  and  how  to  keep  those  who  had  once 
come  was  a problem,  but  Wilber  had  an  idea, 
and  he  and  Harry,  having  talked  the  matter 
over,  arranged  that  those  who  would  come  regu- 
larly for  three  weeks,  should  be  promised  a magic 
lantern  exhibition.  Fifteen  were  faithful,  and  on 
Saturday  afternoon  Professor  Harry  was  on  hand 
with  his  toy  lantern,  and  proceeded  to  entertain 


320  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

the  crowd.  His  slides  were  mostly  comic,  but 
having  borrowed  some  from  a friend  who  had  a 
fair  assortment  such  as  they  were,  they  were 
described  and  commented  on  with  dignity  mixed 
with  humour,  jokes  at  the  expense  of  some  of  his 
Korean  cronies  were  indulged  in,  to  the  delight 
of  everybody,  and  the  young  lecturer’s  efforts 
seemed,  by  the  rapt  attention  and  delighted 
laughter  of  the  crowd,  to  be  most  successful. 
Moreover  Lera,  who  had  a class  of  native  girls, 
asked  for  a repetition  for  their  benefit,  and  this 
was  followed  by  another  request  for  another  class 
of  boys  elsewhere,  and  so  the  American  toy 
helped  on  the  kingdom  just  a wee  bit,  for  two  of 
those  boys  were  baptized  that  year. 

One  Sunday  when  the  boys’  tracts  were  all 
gone,  and  they  had  searched  their  fathers’  book 
rooms  in  vain,  the  elders  all  being  at  Korean 
service,  they  found  in  the  Korean  waiting-room  a 
delightfully  big  pile  of  the  very  things  they  wanted, 
which  were  forthwith  speedily  distributed  to  the 
veiy^  last  leaf.  But  when  the  young  natives’  mis- 
sionary society,  who  had  bought  those  tracts  with 
their  own  savings,  and  were  intending  to  give 
them  out  in  suburban  villages  after  preaching 
that  very  afternoon,  came  and  found  their  supply 
all  gone  there  were  long  faces,  anxious  inquiries, 
eager  searching  on  all  hands,  especially  as  none 
could  be  bought  that  day.  When  the  real  culprits 
were  discovered  the  mistake  was  very  good-na- 


The  Home  for  Children  321 

turedly  condoned,  and  it  was  difficult  to  persuade 
the  owners  to  accept  the  price  ; but  the  boys 
would  not  hear  of  anything  else,  and  so  it  was 
all  settled  quite  comfortably.  At  Christmas  the 
children  decided  to  give  a feast  to  the  Home  for 
Destitute  Children.  There  are,  as  I have  ex- 
plained, innumerable  friendless  little  ones  in 
Korea  either  on  the  streets,  or  the  slaves  and 
dependents  of  those  who  do  not  love  them,  per- 
haps in  Buddhist  temples,  or  the  houses  of  the 
sorcerers.  A large  (according  to  Korean  no- 
tions) native  house  and  beautiful  grounds  on  a 
healthy  hillside  had  been  given  for  this  home 
and  a few  children  gathered  in. 

The  support  of  this  institution  was  very  precari- 
ous, being  fathered  by  no  boards,  which  do  not 
patronize  charitable  institutions,  and  so  it  had  to 
depend  on  the  occasional  generosity  of  a friend 
here  and  there,  and  the  gifts  of  the  missionaries 
and  other  foreigners  in  Seoul.  The  school  is  now 
without  sufficient  funds  to  pay  the  salary  of  a for- 
eign superintendent,  but  they  still  hold  on  to  it, 
and  keep  it  running  with  a native  caretaker, 
rather  than  turn  the  homeless  little  fellows  back 
into  the  street.  The  plan  of  the  committee  is  to 
teach  these  children  trades,  so  that  they  may  sup- 
port themselves  as  soon  as  may  be,  and  help  pay 
expenses.  The  missionaries  of  all  denominations 
hope  to  see  it  well  supported,  instead  of  strug- 
gling for  bare  existence ; for  to  save  the  young 


, 3^2  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

before  their  hearts  have  been  steeped  in  vice 
and  their  minds  warped  to  evil  is  to  gain  a 
long  advantage  in  the  race  with  the  powers  of 
darkness.  The  foreign  children  therefore  had 
planned  to  do  their  share  to  help.  All  had  con- 
tributed geiaerously,  and  all  went  out  to  the  home 
on  the  occasion  of  the  feast,  to  play  games  and 
give  the  little  waifs  as  good  a time  as  possible, 
and  mingle  in  as  merry  a game  of  romps  as 
though  a wide,  deep  and  almost  impassible  gulf 
did  not  lie  between  them  ; yet,  nevertheless,  there 
it  was,  black  and  sullen,  for  on  the  one  side  were 
children  whose  birthright  was  civil  and  religious 
liberty,  the  breath  of  whose  nostrils  was  freedom, 
purity  and  love,  who  claimed  sonship  of  God,  and 
whose  dwelling  was  in  His  light,  along  whose 
sunny  well-hedged  pathway  were  the  fruits  and 
flowers  of  the  tree  of  Life,  who  had  already  drunk 
of  the  water  of  Life,  and  tasted  its  Bread,  before 
whom  shone  steadily  the  star  of  Hope,  growing 
brighter  and  brighter  to  the  perfect  day,  while  on 
that  other  brink ! Poor  little  flotsam  and  jetsam 
of  the  scum  of  heathenism,  chilling  in  the  bitter, 
biting  blasts  of  adversity ! Souls  starving  in 
ignorance,  darkness,  disease,  crime,  folly.  Hither 
to  this  shelter  they  had  been  gathered  with  no 
more  light  or  hope  than  wild  animals,  no  dim 
inkling  of  what  real  mother  love  could  be,  or  a 
home  or  even  a word  to  express  it,  or  a remote 
dream  of  it,  in  its  plainest  interpretation  as 


Heathen  Flotsam  and  Jetsam  323 

familiar  to  those  foreign  children.  But  now  a 
light  was  beginning  to  shine  dimly ; they  had 
been  told  matters  strange  and  hard  to  under- 
stand. Somewhat  of  One  who  loved  them 
(though  of  love  their  ideas  were  very  misty,  not 
yours  or  mine)  who  had  died  for  them ; and  of 
the  great  God  who  was  their  father.  All  this, 
however,  they  did  not  tr}’-  to  comprehend  as  yet. 
It  was  no  doubt  some  deep  philosophy,  too  deep 
for  boys  and  women,  but  at  times  they  pondered 
it,  and  in  the  meanwhile  food,  clothing,  warmth, 
physical  and  moral,  from  foreigners  was  a 
strange  and  good  thing,  and  was,  they  knew, 
connected  in  some  way  with  Him  who  loved 
and  died  for  them. 

So  after  all  the  gulf  between  them  and  the  little 
Americans  was  not  entirely  impassible  or  quite 
hopeless,  however  much  it  looked  so,  for  that 
hidden  Love  that  yearned  over  them,  from  whose 
light  sin  had  kept  them  hidden,  could  bridge  it 
all. 

When  Harry  was  eleven,  and  had  sat  at  the 
native  communion  service,  where  boys  only  a 
little  older  than  himself  were  joining  the  fellow- 
ship, and  as  he  felt  the  holy  impulses  that  seemed 
to  weight  the  atmosphere  at  the  sacramental 
seasons  when  many  eyes  were  wet  wdth  love  and 
thankful  sorrow,  he  had  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
join  the  Korean  Church,  but  fearing  mere  child- 
ish impulse  might  have  instigated  the  wish,  his 


324  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

parents  put  him  off  nearly  two  years,  but  after 
that  they  could  refuse  no  more,  and  not  only  he, 
but  three  of  the  older  children  had  joined  the 
Church, 

Of  course  the  younger  boys  all  looked  forward 
to  it,  too,  and  had  a grave  respect  for  those  who 
had  taken  this  step,  which  I fear  they  did  not  de- 
serve. Harry  was  telling  rather  a tall  yarn  which 
Edmund  refused  to  believe.  “ Why,  Edmund,” 
said  John,  “ I shall  go  right  home  and  tell  mamma 
if  you  don’t  believe  Harry  ; don’t  you  know  he  is 
a Christian,  and  besides  he  is  a Presbyterian  ! ” 
No  answer  ; the  small  doubter  was  silenced  if  not 
convinced  by  so  powerful  an  argument. 

Harry  is  getting  too  old  to  be  written  about 
any  more ; there  will  soon  begin  a new  chapter 
in  his  life  like  that  in  the  life  of  every  American 
child  in  Eastern  lands,  half  delightful,  half  dread- 
ful, They  are  going  ten  thousand  miles  away 
from  parents,  brothers,  sisters  and  playmates,  to 
be  plunged  into  life  of  a new  kind  by  themselves, 
never  to  return  to  the  home  as  children  again, 
if  at  all. 

Fathers  and  mothers  put  it  off  as  long  as 
possible,  put  away  even  the  thought  that  will 
stalk  forth  at  unexpected  moments,  mostly  in  the 
lonely  night  watches,  when  he  forthwith  proceeds 
to  wind  his  long,  cruel  fingers  among  their  heart- 
strings and  tear  them,  so  that  people  say  next 
day,  “ How  pale  you  look  ! ” or  whisper  to  each 


Education  Pangs  325 

other,  “ How  old  and  wrinkled  he  or  she  is  grow- 
ing ! ” 

Sometimes  the  mother  goes  with  the  children, 
and  then  there  remains  behind  a lonely,  home- 
less man,  toiling  away,  with  his  heart  across  the 
seas,  and  over  yon  there  is  a wife  who  lives  a 
widow,  and  children  who  grow  estranged,  scarcely 
know  their  own  fathers  by  sight,  and  pass  their 
youth  without  a home,  for  the  man  must  be  left 
thus,  or  the  children  must  be  pushed  out  into  the 
world,  at  too  tender  an  age  to  meet  its  tempta- 
tions unguided  and  unsupported.  The  choice  is 
not  easy,  or  likely  to  prove  satisfactory  either 
way.  Do  we  Americans  make  a Moloch  of 
schooling,  “ education,”  so-called,  and  sacrifice 
our  children  and  our  homes  upon  it  ? The  home 
is  broken  up  forever ! those  who  have  been  so 
inexpressibly  near  and  precious  will  not  meet 
again  till  the  gulf  of  change  and  years  lies  be- 
tween. 

As  one  by  one  the  others  have  gone  away, 
Harry  is  left  the  oldest  one,  and  somewhat  alone. 
Mother  and  father  bring  out  their  favourite  books 
of  poetry,  history  and  fiction,  the  best  magazines 
are  subscribed  for,  and  certain  others  carefully 
dropped  ; they  play  chess,  checkers,  etc. ; they 
study  the  catalogues  for  new  games,  but  they  are 
busy  folks.  Harry  has  some  lonely  hours,  and 
then  Mother  Won  questions  her  own  heart 
solemnly,  is  she  wronging  her  boy,  keeping  him 


326  The  Boy’s  Christian  Endeavour  Society 

away  from  the  joyous  young  life  of  his  own 
country  and  people  ? 

The  Spectre  is  coming  very  near,  the  rack  turns 
yet  another  notch  every  day.  God  help  Tomp- 
kins’ Amonni  when  the  time  comes.  Aye  and 
so  He  will,  and  her  dearest  hope  for  her  boy  is, 
in  spite  of  all  the  pain,  that  when  preparing  days 
are  done  he  may  be  so  honoured  as  to  “ be 
allowed  of  God  to  be  put  in  trust  for  the  gospel,” 
in  Korea. 

So  let  us  too  hope,  that  in  later  years  our  young 
American  may  take  up  the  story  of  a new  Korean 
people,  happier,  civilized,  enlightened,  not  with 
that  superficial  veneer  of  civilization  which  is 
satisfied  with  imitating  the  unessential  and  effemi- 
nating results  of  the  true,  which  touch  only  out- 
ward appearances,  but  the  real,  the  Christian  civ- 
ilization, which  begins  from  within,  in  a new  life 
in  the  heart  of  the  people,  in  the  people’s  hearts. 
A Life  whose  very  motive  power  is  unselfish  Love, 
which  works  out  in  fair  blossoms  and  sound  fruit 
of  “nobler  modes  of  life,  sweeter  manners,  purer 
laws  ” and  they 

“ No  longer  half  akin  to  brute ; 

For  all  we  thought,  and  loved,  and  did. 

And  hoped,  and  suffered,  is  but  seed 
Of  what  in  them  is  flower  and  fruit.” 


THE  END 


MISSIONS  HOME  AND  FOREIGN 


All  About  Japan  a Young  People’s  History  of  japan, 
xamo,  Cloth,  netfi.oo.  BELLE  M.  BRAIN 

A young  people's  history  of  Japan  from  the  earliest  days  down  to 
the  presenr  A great  mass  of  information,  historical  and  otherwise,  is 
condensed  with  surpi'ising  skill  within  the  covers  of  a small  volume. 


With  Tommy  Tompkins  in  Korea 

Illustratcd,z2mo,Cloth.Det$i.35.  L.  H.  UNDERWOOD. fl.D* 

A viTid  story  of  life  in  Korea.  Native  Hie  is  most  graphically  and 
humorously  presented  in  connection  with  the  experiences  of  this 
American  family.  Entertainment  and  accurate  information  about 
things  Korean  are  here  admirably  blended. 


Home  Mission  Readings 

lamo.  Cloth,  net,  50c.,  Paper,  net,  35c.  ALICE  M«  GUERNSEY 

A collection  of  stories  and  sketches  dealing  with  various  phases  of 
Home  Mission  work,  and  especially  designed  for  use  in  missionary 
meetings.  Women’s  auxiliary  societies,  and  Young  People's  societies 
will  find  it  of  value  in  making  out  their  programes.  A bright  story 
will  catch  and  hold  the  attention  better  then  a prosy  speech. 


Indian  and  Spanish  Neighbors 

Interdenominational  Home  Mission  Study  Course, 
zamo.  Cloth,  net  50c.,  Paper,  net  30c  JULIA  H.  JOHNSTON 
The  Third  volume  in  the  series  begun  in  Under  Our  Flag.  In- 
tended for  use  as  a text  book  in  all  Women’s  Home  Mission  Societies. 
Covers  the  needs,  and  opportunity  for  work,  among  the  Indians  and 
Spanish  speaking  people  in  our  Western  states,  in  Cuba  and  Porto  Rico. 


The  Burden  of  the  City  3rd  Editiou. 

i6mo,  Cloth,  net  50c. ; paper,  net  30c.  ISABELLE  HORTON 

A study  of  Home  Mission  work  as  applied  to  our  large  cities,  by  a 
deaconess  of  wide  experience.  Especially  designed  for  use  by  Mis- 
sion Study  Classes  whether  young  or  eld. 


Our  People  of  Foreign  Speech 

i6mo,  Cloth,  net  50c.  SAMUEL  McLANAHAN 

**There  ii  a fund  of  information  contained  in  this  little  volume 
that  those  interested  in  the  religious  and  socialistic  problems  of  the  day 
will  do  well  to  avail  themselves  KiV*— Presbyterian  Banner. 


At  Our  Own  Door  Home  Missions  in  the  South, 

Clotk,  Illustrated,  net  $1.00.  Paper,  net  35c.  S,  L,  flORRIS 
-This  book  will  be  a power  in  the  land.  It  is  brimful  of  energy  and 
coaBon  sense  enthusiasm.  It  is  aggressive,  interesting,  instnsetive.’' 
Snlkm*stfm  Prt$iyttrian. 


IN  MISSION  LANDS. 


The  Egyptian  Sudan 

Illustrated,  i2mo.  Cloth,  net$i.oo.  J.  K.  QIPPEN 

A new  mission  field  occupied  by  the  American  United  Presbyter* 
ian  Board  almost  immediately  after  the  capture  of  Kartoum.  The 
story  of  the  mission  with  its  incidental  description  of  the  country  and 
its  resources,  the  people  and  their  customs  is  told  by  the  pioneer 
missionary  out  of  his  own  large  and  interesting  experience. 


On  the  Borders  of  Pigmy  Land 

Profusely  illustrated  with  photographs, 
xamo,  Cloth,  net  |i. 25.  RUTH  B.  FISHER 

A clever,  wide-awake  missionary  wife  can  write  an  interesting 
story  almost  any  time,  especially  if  she  has  lived  among  such  a-much- 
talktd-of  people  as  the  African  Pigmies,  of  whom  really  little  is  known. 
Mrs.  Fisher  writes  most  entertainingly,  and  is  free  from  cant  and 
commonplace.  She  is  a good  observer,  and  one  could  wish  for  many 
more  such  informing  books  as  this  about  missionary  lands. 

The  Pen  of  Brahma  Peeps  into  Hindu  Hearts  and  Homes 
Illustrated,  i2mo.  Cloth,  net  $1.25.  BEATRICE  M.  HARBAND 

Miss  Harband  has  a gift  for  making  the  life  of  far-away  people 
seem  intensely  real.  A novel  is  not  more  fascinating  than  this  picture 
of  life  told  with  spirited  touch  and  sympathetic  insight. 


The  Great  Religions  of  India 

lamo.  Cloth,  net  it. 50.  J.  MURRAY  MITCHELL,  M.A..LL.D. 

A careful  presentation  of  the  main  tenets  of  Hinduism,  Zoroa*-- 
trianism,  Buddhism,  Mohammedanism,  and  a glance  at  the  beliefs  at 
the  wilder  tribes  of  India.  This  study  is  the  result  of  years  of  mission- 
ary life  and  study 


pAcfnr  China’s  Christians. 

A13A  16  Illustrations  and  colored  map. 
x2mo,  Cloth,  net  $i  00.  MRS.  HOWARD  TAYLOR 


^‘Of  surpassing  interest.  Ought  to  do  much  toward  deepening  the 
spiritual  life.”— Aer.  y Hudson  Taylor. 

**lt  is  an  amazing  record,  and  will  at  once  take  rank  among  the 
most  powerful  missionary  books.” — The  Life  of  Faith. 


Things  As  They  Are  Mission  Work  in  Southern  India 
Illustrated.  i*mo,  cloth  ii.  net AHY  WILSON  CARMICHAEL 
^‘Remarkable  missionary  book.  Only  a woman  could  so  clearly 
see  and  tell  of  the  horror  of  being  a woman  in  India.” — Congre^a- 
tionalist. 


The  White  Peril  in  the  Far  East 

A Study  of  the  ethical  and  international  significance  of  the  Russo- 
Japanese  war,  by  the  Author  of  Evolution  of  the  Japanese. 

i2mo.  Cloth,  net  $1.00.  SIDNEY  L.  QULICK 

**A  concise,  clear,  comprehensive  presentation  of  the  national  and 
international  interest  involved  in  present  movements  and  tendencies 
viewed  as  growing  from  the  past.” — The  Outlooks 


IN  THE  WIDE.  WIDE  WORLD. 


Modern  India 

Illustrated,  8vo,  Cloth,  net  |a.oo. 

WILLIAM  ELEROY  CURTIS 
With  so  many  books  on  India  one  might  ask,  why  any  more  ? 
The  answer  is  that  Mr.  Curtis  has  a way  of  finding  out  what  others 
miss,  and  of  telling  his  story  so  that  it  cannot  be  forgotten. 


Egypt,  Burma  and  British  Malaysia 

Illustrated,  8vo,  Cloth,  net  $2.00. 

WILLIAM  ELEROY  CURTIS 
Mr.  Curtis  is  the  most  skillful  observer  in  the  ranks  of  American 
travelers  and  correspondents.  His  pages  are  fascinating  pictures  of 
life,  men  and  a^airs  in  out-of-the-way  places,  and  moreover  he  teUs 
one  just  the  things  most  worth  knowing  about  everywhere  he  goes, 
whether  it  is  scenery,  politics,  business  or  religion. 


The  Mediterranean  Traveller  dafr-B“de“k’eJ°” 

and  Edition,  revised.  Illustrations  and  Maps,  i2mo,  Cloth,  net  $2.50. 

DANIEL  E.  LORENZ 

‘‘Gives  essential  facts  in  one  compact  volume,  and  it  is  done  well. 
Treats  in  order  Madeira,  Southern  Spain  and  Gibraltar,  crosses  the 
Strait  to  Tangier,  Algiers  and  Tripoli,  then  carries  the  reader  to  Tur- 
key, Palestine  and  Egypt,  and  returns  him  along  the  northern  shores, 
through  Italy  and  the  Riviera.  The  traveler  will  find  it  of  service  in 
planning  his  travels  through  these  fascinating  lands.” — N.  V.  Sun. 


Round  the  World  Toward  the  Westering 
Sun 

i2mo,  Clothg  netii.25.  LEE  S.  SMITH 

In  an  earlier  volume  “Through  Egypt  and  Palestine  Mr.  Smith 
gave  ample  evidence  of  his  ability  to  write  entertaingly.  In  this  new 
book,  with  a wider  field  he  has  produced  not  only  an  exceedingly  in- 
teresting work,  but  a valuable  guide  to  intending  tourists. 


Two  Years  in  Three  Continents 

8vo,  Cloth,  net  $2.00.  E.  M.  CONDIT 

“It  is  impossible  to  read  the  cheerful  narrative  of  this  lively  globe- 
trotter without  absorbing  some  of  his  enthusiasm,  for  he  is  full  of  it.” — 
Boston  Transcript, 


Missions  from  the  Modern  View 

Introduction  by  Charles  Cuthbert  Hall,  D.D. 
i2mo.  Cloth,  net  $1.25.  ROBERT  A.  HUME 

“Dr.  Hume's  treatment  of  the  theme  is  that  of  one  on  the  firing 
line,  engaged  in  manifold  practical  activities  but  at  the  same  time 
keeping  pace  with  the  best  Christian  thought  of  England  and  Amer- 
ca.  ” — Congre Rationalist. 


HIGH  CLASS  FICTION. 


The  Mother  A NoTclette  of  New  York  Life. 

Artistically  decorated,  xamo.  Cloth,  $1.25.  NORMAN  DUNCAN 
“ Here  is  a new  thing,  an  original,  a wonderful  piece  of  work — a 
fragment  right  out  of  the  Book  of  Life  ; the  realism  of  Dickens  him* 
self  in  a new  world.  It  goes  straight  to  the  heart.” — Book  Nrms.  **K 
marvelous  mingling  of  delicacy  and  boldness.”,— iY.  Y.  Evening  Pest. 


5ir  RsiOtli  ^ Story  of  the  Theft  of  an  Empire. 

Illustrated,  lamo.  Cloth,  $1.50.  JAHESn.  LUDLOW 

Dr.  Ludlow^s  novel  is  a drama  of  inner  conscience,  as  well  as  a 
thrilling  story  of  outward  adventure,  and  is  a worthy  companion  to  his 
early  **The  Captain  0/ ike  Janizaries^**  ** Deborah.'* 

The  great  plot  of  Sir  Kaoul  and  the  romance  of  the  Lady  Renee, 
are  based  upon  the  historical  facts  concerning  the  miscarriage  of  that 
crusade  of  the  Xlllth  Century  which  was  diverted  to  the  capture  of 
the  Christian  city  of  Constantinople.  The  love  story  that  runs 
through  it  gives  a picture  of  a woman  whom  one  can  never  forget. 


St.  Cuthbert’s  A Parish  Romance, 
lamo.  Cloth,  51.50.  ROBERT  E.  KNOWLES 

What  Ian  Maclaren  has  done  for  his  Scotch  parish,  what  Barrie 
has  done  for  Thrums,  Robert  E.  Knowles  does  for  his  primitive  folk 
on  this  side  the  Atlantic.  He  has  a rare  sense  of  humor  and  his 
sketches  are  instinct  with  sentiment  and  pathos.” — Albany  Argus. 


The  Wisdom  of  the  Simple  ^ 

i2mo,. Cloth,  $1.50.  OWEN  KILDARE 

The  author  of  **My  Mamie  Rose”  writes  about  the  slum  life 
downtown  New  York,  as  a man  might  write  about  death,  after  he  had 
been  raised  from  the  dead.  Born  and  reared  in  the  rough  nursery  of 
the  tenement  alley,  it  is  not  remarkable  that  his  tales  have  an  inimi* 
table  power. 


Saint  Cecilia  of  the  Court 

Illustrated,  lamo.  Cloth,  $1.25.  ISABELLA  R*  HESS 

**  Shows  rare  skill  of  construction,  well-sustained  action,  and 
dramatic  power.  Pictures  many  sides  of  life  in  the  whirling  metrop- 
olis where  a little  red-haired  girl  rises  above  the  environments  of  the 
alley.  The  pathos  and  humor  are  irresistible.** — Boston  Globe. 


The  Village  Artist 

i2mo,  Cloth,  »i.oo.  ADELINE  M.  TESKBY 

**The  artist  conceives  likenesses  of  people  as  they  might  become 
if  they  gave  their  best  qualities  a chance.  Mrs.  Simon  Slade  tells  her 
experiences  in  a quaint,  simple  manner  that  is  itself  a rare  delight.  . . 
Altogether  a delightful  production.” — Washington  Star, 

ROS&’S  QlICSt>  found  the  beautiful  land. 

i2mo,  Clot^  50c.  By  ANNA  PORTER  WRIGHT 

A story  that  gpes  to  the  heart ; quaint,  huma.n,  Christima.  It  is 
distinctively  a message  of  the  gospel  to  young  and  old. 


storie:s  or  fact  and  fiction. 


The  Heart  of  the  World  ^hr?suan  sodaiism. 

snd  Kdition.  i2mo,  Cloth,  |i. 25.  Popular  Paper  Edition,  net  35c. 

CHARLES  n.  SHELDON 
“The  principles  and  aims  of  Christian  Socialism  are  here  pre- 
sented with  dramatic  effect  in  the  form  of  a story.  The  best  thing 
about  the  book  is  the  thing  now  most  needed — the  irenic,  evangelic 
spirit  of  human  sympathy  that  it  aims  to  generate  between  the 
churches  and  ‘labor.’” — Outlook, 


Duncan  Polite, the  Watchman  of  Glenoro 

Iimo,  Cloth,  »I  50.  MARIAN  KEITH 

•‘There  is  much  of  that  sweet  and  simple  life  characteristic  of 
Canadian  stories,  and  the  beautiful  life  and  final  sacrifice  of  Duncan 
Polite  will  stay  by  you  long  after  you  put  the  book  down.” — Louisville 
Christian  Observer. 


For  a Free  Conscience  cenm?y°^“’' 

i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50.  MRS.  Lydia  c.  wood 

“The  book  has  the  charm  of  picturesqueness  and  novelty.  The 
serene  sweetness  and  purity  of  the  Friends  is  made  to  contrast  sharply 
with  the  fierce  hatred  of  their  enemies.’” — Philadelphia  Press. 


Dr.  Grenfell’s  Parish;  The  Deep  Sea  Fisherman. 

3rd  Edition.  Illustrated,  Cloth,  net  $1.00.  NORHAN  DUNCAN 
“It  is  a series  of  sketches  of  Grenfell’s  work  in  Labrador  ; full  of 
life  and  color,  it  is  a strange  land  and  a strange  people  and  a strange 
life  A very  rare  picture  the  author  has  given  of  a very  rare  man  : a 
true  story  of  adventure  which  we  should  like  to  see  in  the  hands  of 
every  one.” — Outlook. 


The  Harvest  of  the  Sea  Atumic°^ 

3rd  Edition.  Illustrated,  lamo.  Cloth,  net  $1.00. 

WILFRED  T.  GRENFELL.  fl.D. 

•‘Relates  the  life  of  the  North  Sea  fishermen  on  the  now  famous 
Dogger  Bank  ; the  cruel  apprenticeship,  the  bitter  life,  the  gallant 
deeds  of  courage  and  of  seamanship,  the  evils  of  drink,  the  work  of  the 
deep  sea  mission.  These  arc  real  sea  tales  that  will  appeal  to  every 
one,  and  are  told  admirably.” — New  York  Sun. 


The  Lure  of  the  Labrador  Wild 

The  Story  of  the  Exploring  Expedition  conducted  by 
Leonidas  Hubbard,  Jr. 

4th  Edition.  Many  Illustrations  and  Maps,  8vo,  Cloth,  net  $1.50, 

DILLONjWALLACE 

“He  has  produced  one  of  the  most  graphic  and  moving  stories  of 
adventure  that  we  have  ever  read.  The  story  tells  itself,  and  is  as 
dramatic  and  devout  as  it  is  pathetic.  Here  is  a record  that  holdsone, 
^fiction  never  would,  of  suffering  faced  and  heroism  shown,  for  an 
ideal  that  failed,  by  men  who  did  not  fail  each  other.”— iY,  K.  Even- 
ing  Sun. 


EVANGELISTIC, 


! 


The  Evangelistic  Note  A study  of  needs  and  methods, 

together  with  a series  of  direct  appeals. 

3rd  Edition.  i2mo,  Cloth,  net  $1,25.  W.  J,  DAW50N 

“One  of  the  most  remarkable  and  stirring  of  recent  books.  It  is 
really  the  story  of  a great  crisis  in  the  life  of  a great  preacher.  Mr. 
Dawson’s  experience  in  his  own  church  has  justified  his  faith,  and  his 
book  is  a most  stimulating  treatise  on  homiletics  and  pastoral  theol* 
ogy.  It  is  epoch-making  in  character.” — The  Watchman. 


Torrey  and  Alexander  ^’'o'nd-w^.Te'Lvivai 

A record  and  study  of  the  work  and  personality  of  the  Evangelists 
DR.  R.  A.  TORREY,  D.  D.,  and  CHARLES  M.  ALEXANDER. 
Illustrated,  i2mo.  Cloth,  net  $loo  - GEORGE  T.  B.  DAVIS 

The  multitudes  who  have  followed  the  marvellous  progress  of  the 
religious  awakening  in  Australasia,  India,  and  Great  Britain,  accom- 
panying the  efforts  of  these  evangelists  will  eagerly  welcome  this 
glimpse  from  the  inside  of  their  career,  personality  and  work.  Mr. 
Davis  has  been  associated  in  a confidential  capacity  with  the  work 
of  the  two  evangelists,  and  writes  with  keen  appreciation  of  the 
interesting  facts  in  stirring  language. 


Real  Salvation  and  Whole-Hearted  Set- 

vie©  ^ second  volume  of  Revival  Addresses, 
lamo.  Cloth,  nct$i.oo.  R.  A.  TORREY 

The  multitudes  led  to  decision  in  connection  with  the  preaching 
of  these  sermons,  gives  assurance  that  their  influence  will  be  extended 
far  beyond  the  reach  of  the  speaker’s  voice.  Positive  conviction  and 
a loving  plea  as  from  a God-sent  messenger,  are  the  marked  features 
of  this  new  volume. 


Talks  to  Men  About  the  Bible  and  the  Christ  of  the  Bible, 
lamo.  Cloth,  net  75c.  R.  A.  TORREY 

“The  directness,  simplicity,  with  wide  scholarship  and  literary 
charm  of  these  talks,  and  unhesitating  claim  for  the  highest  and 
fullest  inspiration,  inerrancy  and  authority  for  the  Bible,  make  them 
trumpet  calls  to  faith.” — N.  Y Observer. 

The  Passion  for  Souls 

i6mo, Cloth,  netsoc.  J.  H.  JOWETT 

Seven  sermons  on  tenderness,  watchfulness,  companionship,  rest 
and  vision  of  the  apostle  Paul’s  passion  for  human  souls.^  This  little 
volume  shows  his  keen,  reverent  insight  at  its  best  and  is  made  rich 
with  abundant  and  well  chosen  illustrations. 


The  Worker’s  Weapon  Authority 

x6mo,  Cloth,  net  25  cents.  JOHN  H.  ELLIOTT 

“A  fine  presentation  of  the  uncjucstionable  authority  of  God’s 
Word  and  pointed  and  clear  directions  and  illustrations  of  how  to 
tudy  and  use  the  Bible.” 


BIOGRAPHICAL  AND  EVANGELISTIC. 


Maltbie  Davenport  Babcock 

A biographical  sketch  and  memorial.  With  portrait,  zd  edition 
xamo.  Cloth,  $i.oo  CHARLES  E.  ROBINSON 

“It  was  indeed  hard  to  give  any  true  presentment  of  a man  like 
Babcock,  so  vivid,  so  dazzling  at  limes,  so  lovable  always;  but  the 
writer’s  success  is  quite  wonderful.” — Henry  Van-Dyke. 


John  Henry  Barrows 

8vo,  gill  top,  net  $1.50.  MARY  ELEANOR  BARROWS 

“The  whole  story  from  beginning  to  end,  at  home  and  abroad,  is 
nobly  fascinating,  and  wherever  read  will  do  much  to  waken  into  fresh 
power  the  higher  ideals  of  life.  Were  it  fact  or  fiction,  a more  ab- 
sorbingly interesting  story  has  not  appeared  for  a long  time.”— 
Chicago  Tribune. 


What  Frances  Willard  Said 

lamo.  Cloth,  net  75c.  Edited  by  ANNA  A.  GORDON, 

World's  Vice  President  of  the  W.  C.  T.  U. 
Selections  of  most  striking  statements  on  a great  variety  of  topics, 
and  representing  the  many  really  remarkable  qualities  of  America's 
••  uncrowned  queen  ” of  women. 


The  Soul- Winning  Church 

2nd  Edition.  . lamo.  Cloth,  net  50c.  LEN  G.  BROUGHTON. 

•‘Dr.  Broughton,  of  Atlanta,  is  a well-known  revivalist.  Some  of 
his  most  effective  addresses  in  this  country  and  in  England  are  com- 
prised in  this  volume.  They  are  plain,  pungent,  and  spiritually  quick- 
ening.”— The  Outlook. 


The  Awakening  in  Wales 

umo.  Paper,  net  25c.  HRS.  JESSIE  PENN-LEWIS 

Mrs.  Penn-Lcwis  writes  from  first-hand  information  of  the  great 
revival  movement  and  the  events  that  led  up  to  it.  It  is  doubtless  the 
most  powerful  and  inspiring  record  yet  written  of  the  great  revival. 


The  Story  of  the  Welsh  Revival 

4th  Edition.  x6mo.  Paper,  net  15c.  ARTHUR  GOODRICH, B. A. 
As  told  by  eye  witnesses,  together  with  a sketch  of  Evan  Roberts 
and  his  message  to  the  world.  With  added  chapters  by  G.  Campbell 
Morgan,  D.  D.,  W.  T.  Stead,  Rev.  W.  W.  Moore,  Rev.  Evan  Hop- 
kins and  others. 


The  Open  Church  for  the  Unchurched 

or  How  to  Reach  the  Masse,. 
i2mo.  Cloth,  #1.00.  J.  E.  McCULLOCH 

The  remarkable  movement  in  British  cities  organized  by  the  Wes- 
leyma  church  for  reaching  the  masses  has  here  been  descried  and  its 
lessons  studied  as  applied  to  the  needs  .f  this  country. 


THE  SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 


How  to  Conduct  a Sunday  School 

and  Edition.  lamo.  Cloth,  net  $1.25.  MARION  LAWRANCE 
General  Secretary  of  the  International  Sunday  School  Association 
**  Packed  full  of  useful  information.  Filled  with  details,  specific 
and  practical,  for  which  a host  of  workers  hare  longed  and  prayed. 
The  book  gives  the  cream  of  lifedong  experience  and  observation.  In 
its  concrete  details  lies  its  unique  and  practical  service.**— 7'Ae  Ex- 
aminer, 


Pencil  Points  for  Preacher  and  Teacher 

With  an  Introduction  by  Rev.  Robert  S.  McArthur,  D.D. 
Illustrated,  Cloth,  net$i  25.  ROBERT  F.  Y.  PIERCE 

Dr.  Pierce  is  the  recognized  exponent  of  the  art  of  conveying 
Scripture  truth  by  means  of  blackboard  sketches  and  object  lessons. 
Crowded  with  illustrations  of  blackboard  drawings  and  su^estions 
and  forms  a fitting  companion  to  his  popular  book,  ‘^Pictured  Truth.** 


Kindergarten  Bible  Stories  O'**  Testament. 

Illustrated,  lamo.  Cloth,  net  $1.25  By  LAURA  E.  CRAQIN. 
Devoted  to  the  stories  of  which  the  little  folks  never  tire,  but  told 
in  the  inimitable  style  for  which  this  author  has  an  exceptional  gift 
as  well  as  a peculiar  discernment  in  bringing  out  the  lesson  of  value. 


How  to  Plan  a Lesson 


And  other  Talks  to  Sunday 
School  Teachers. 


2nd  Edition.  i6mo.  Cloth,  net  50c.  MARIANNA  C.  BROWN 

**  Suggestive,  interesting,  valuable The  writer  is  an  experienced 

teacher,  who  has  made  proof  of  her  theories,  and  who  is  well  able  to 
make  valuable  suggestions.  ’ — Herald  and  Presbyter. 


The  Gist  of  the  Lesson — 1906 

Leather,  net  25c  ( Vest  pocket  size")  R.  A.  TORREY 

Interleaved,  Leather,  net  50c 

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Practical  S.  S.  Lesson  Commentary  For  1906 

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Its  practical  value  and  marked  spiritual  expositions  have  given  it 
a permanent  place  Fourteenth  Year. 


The  Twentieth  Century  New  Testament 

Final  Revised  Translation  1905. 

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All  criticism  has  DOW  been  carefully  considered  and  the  results 
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of  thirteen  years  labor  by  a score  of  translators  and  is  practically  a 
new  translation. 


DEVOTIONAL  STUDIES, 


The  Christ  of  To-Day  What?  whence?  whither? 

i6mo.  Boards,  net  50c.  Q,  CAHPBELL  MORGAN 

A study  originally  presented  from  the  platform  of  the  Northficld 
Conferences,  awakening  exceptional  interest  at  the  time.  No  more 
suggestive  work  has  appeared  from  Dr.  Morgan’s  pen. 


The  Redeemed  Life  After  Death 

i6mo.  Boards,  net  50c.  CHARLES  CUTHBERT  HALL 
N ot  a ne  w theory  of  Immortality  or  a review  of  old  theories,  but  a 
presentation  with  rare  literary  charm  and  with  the  comprehension  of 
wide  scholarship,  of  the  grip  of  the  Christian  heart  upon  the  life  to 
come.  It  will  comfort  and  assure  the  sorrowing,  guide  and  convince 
the  ini|uiring. 


Moments  of  Silence 

lamo.  Cloth,  net  $1.25.  ALEXANDER  SflELLIE,  M.A. 

A book  of  daily  meditations  for  a year. 


Yet  Another  Day 

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The  impression  of  a single  page  is  indelible. 


The  Inner  Chamber  of  the  Inner  Life 

i2mo,  Cloth,  net  75c.  ANDREW  MURRAY 

Suggests  thoughts  of  the  utmost  importance  as  to  the  daily  need  of 
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kindred  topics. 

Inter-Communion  With  God 

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**  Follows  the  theme  of  * Extempore  prayer,"  along  wider  and 
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Bible  etchings  of  Immort2dity 

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“The  consolatory  character  of  this  little  book  makes  it  a suitable 
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Scripture  Selections  to  Memorize 

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A Wall  Roll  of  passagw  emphasizing  the  power  and  love  of  God, 
the  dignity  of  man,  Christ  as  teacher,  Redeemer,  King.  The  life  of 
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Selections  from  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  most  helpful  in  strength- 
ening faith,  and  deepening  personal  devotion. 


ESSAYS,  POEMS.  ETC. 


Makers  of  English  Fiction 

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**Mr.  Dawson  knows  his  subject  thoroughly,  having  been  an 
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tentive as  Macaulay's.  He  is  a literary  man  of  impressionable  mind 
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his  book  is  the  work  of  a real  critic  and  a master  of  style;  high  praise, 
but  deserved  we  believe.” — Neiv  York  Evening  Sun. 


Self  Control : Its  Kingship  and  Majesty 

Decorated,  lamo.  Cloth,  gilt  top,  net  $1.00. 

WILLIAM  GEORGE  JORDAN 

A permanent  form  for  these  robust  essays  on  a right  attitude  to 
ward  life,  heretofore  published  in  separate  booklets. 

"Should  sell  by  tens  of  millions.  It’s  just  the  counsel  universally 
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graph. 


A World  Without  a Child  AS.ory  for  Wom.nand 

i6mo.  Cloth.net,  50C.  COULSON  KERNAHAN 

Mr.  Kernahan  is  daring,  for  he  has  had  the  courage  to  put  in  vivid 
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assured  of  universal  attention. 


When  Joy  Begins  a study  of  » woman’s  Life. 
i2mo,  half  vellum,  net  50c.  CLARA  E.  LAUGHLIN 

A charming  sequel  both  in  point  of  story  and  period  of  life  to 
"The  Evolution  of  a Girl’s  Ideal.” 


Th#»  Rnrtlf  Charming  poems  of  childhood 

1 ne  l^OCK-d-Oye  DOOK  a famous  lover  of  children. 
Decorated,  lamo,  net  50c.  WILLIAM  SINCLAIR  LORD 


The  Finest  Baby  in  the  World  Being  Ictiers  from 

a man  to  himself  about  his  child.  New  edition.  Illuminated.  Art 
cover,  i6mo,  net  50c.  THEADORER 

A little  gem  of  literature  and  Philosophy.  It  might  have  been 
called  ‘‘reveries  of  a father.”  It  puts  in  charming  words  the  feelings 
that  quicken  the  pulses  of  every  parent. 


A Mother’s  Year 

i2mo.  Cloth,  net,  $1.25 

A collection  of  poems  and  paragraphs.  Quotations  for  every  day 
in  the  year,  that  are  inspired  by  the  universal  human  emotion  ex- 
pressed in  "A  wife ! A mother!  Among  the  contributors  are  President 
Roosevelt,  Lowell,  Dickens,  Channing,  Bryant,  Holmes,  Hawthorne, 
Whittier,  Riley,  &c. 


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